


Daddy's Girl

by taylocrow



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cheating, Daddy Kink, F/M, Office Sex, Porn WITH plot now, Robb Stark knows nothing, fluffer nutter, lil fluff, little bit of booty stuff, mention of cheating, porn with barely a plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2018-09-22 18:39:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 36,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9620477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylocrow/pseuds/taylocrow
Summary: It started with lingering looks, asking for unnecessary copies, and small talk in the break room, and somehow she ended up on her knees.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Daddy kink because I am one extra bitch. If it's not your thing, don't read!

# Daddy's Girl

* * *

This was so wrong. It was so incredibly wrong. There was no excuse for it, nothing to make it seem okay, and absolutely no defense if they were to get caught. Maybe that was why it was so hot when Jon threaded his fingers through her hair and bit back his moans. It made Sansa’s panties damp just thinking about the way he’d say her name if they were not in the presence of all their co-workers.

 

 _What would her father say_?

 

“That’s right baby girl, nice and slow. Fuuuck.” Jon’s head fell back against his desk chair as Sansa swallowed even more of his cock. His hands were gently guiding her movements as she moaned onto him. That always drove him nuts, and she peered up at him just to watch his strained facial expression.

 

You see, Sansa Stark was on her knees for her brother’s best friend. And if that's just not scandalous enough for you: he is 20 years her senior.

 

He had these crinkles by his eyes when he laughed at something in a meeting and he drank his coffee black. Jon wore tailored suits and had probably never watched a single reality television show. At 38, he was exceptionally chiseled, from his jawline to his abs and even his calf muscles. Sansa loved to watch him put all his clothes back on before they left for their own homes.

 

Robb had taken over the business when their father, Ned, had passed about 12 years ago. Sansa had been 6 when her father had a heart attack. Leaving a 26-year-old Robb to take on the Stark Reality empire, and it had done extremely well under his and Jon’s watch.

 

Sansa had just graduated high school from her all girl’s Catholic school and needed a job to get some pocket money throughout her senior year and especially before she started school in the fall. That was how she ended up in the office and eventually on her knees.

 

It started with lingering looks, asking for unnecessary copies, and small talk in the break room. Then he asked her to stay behind with him one night to get some filing done. Sansa knew she would not file a single sheet of paper as soon as she had entered his private office; there was something in the way he had smiled at her when he asked it. And every time Sansa saw that smile a fire lit inside her. It was teasing and cocky and it always happened when he looked down on her cumming for him.

 

Sansa had hooked up with a few boys in high school, but it was nothing too serious. Just in back seats of cars or sneaking over after a school dance. Joffrey would stab at her pussy with his stubby fingers, Harry’s fat tongue was like a dead fish in her mouth, and once she’d even kissed her best friend Margaery. It was all silly and fun and completely foreign. Never had any boy looked at her the way Jon looked at her.

 

There was no one her age who could make her feel like Jon did. The way his mouth felt on her was a sin in itself.

 

“Come here,” Jon pulled her mouth off of him and Sansa sucked so hard that his cock made a popping noise when it left her mouth, making Jon groan as he pulled her to her feet.

 

Sansa’s hair was already pulled from its tight bun it’d been in all day. It cascaded over her shoulders and all over her sheer purple blouse. Underneath she wore a black camisole and a black pencil skirt with matching heels. It was her typical receptionist attire, but when the office closed and it was just she and Jon, it made her feel like the sexiest woman alive.

 

Slowly Jon grazed his calloused hand up, up, up, her smooth, pale legs until reaching her panty-less swollen, wet folds dampening her black tights. Jon’s eyes glazed over as he gently took away his hand. Sansa let out a whimper from the lost contact, and Jon grabbed her face, “No panties?”

 

Sansa shook her head and widened her eyes. She _loved_ this part.

 

“You are a very, very bad girl.” Jon clicked his tongue and tightened his grip on her face, “That is not what nice girls do. Nice girls wear panties.”

 

Sansa smiled wickedly, “I’m not a very nice girl, Daddy.”

 

Jon licked his bottom lip and released her from his grasp. “Bend over.” His voice was demanding, dark, and rich with promise.

 

She lay down across his lap slowly, and looked up at him patiently. Jon began to rub his hands over her clothed ass, tracing the lines of her inseam, rubbing the backs of her thighs. If she were to let a moan escape now, he would make her wait longer for a release. Sansa peered up at him again, and Jon stared her directly in the eye as he pulled her skirt up over her hips. “I’m ripping these.” Jon didn’t care if they were her $50 tights from Saks or $5 from Target. Whenever he ripped or snapped something he’d always replace it with something better.

 

And off they went. Jon tore her tights and ripped them down her legs, leaving her completely exposed and bare bottomed before him. Sansa gasped at the sensation, and Jon firmly gripped her thigh, “You like that?”

 

Sansa nodded eagerly as Jon raised his hand high in the air, his eyes watching her carefully; then letting it smack harshly against the pale of her bottom. He smacked, and grabbed, and smacked some more until Sansa was trembling in his lap, her butt a perfect shade of vibrant red. “Please,” She whined out desperately, her feet began to wobble from the anticipation.

 

“What is it?” Jon smacked her ass one more time; Sansa threw her head back in pleasure. “Please fuck me, _please_.”

 

Jon smirked at her; his short brown curls just beginning to become peppered with gray, and shook his head. “No. Bad girls don’t get fucked, only good girls.” Sansa stuck out her bottom lip and kicked her feet in protest. Jon gently began to push her off of his lap and back to the floor. “Beg for it, baby girl.” Jon’s cock was long and hard against his stomach as he sat back in his chair looking down on her. Sansa immediately gathered him up and began to suck eagerly, her head bobbing, his cock reaching to the back of her throat as she rubbed the base and licked her way to his balls. Jon began to moan and choke on his breath. His raspy voice whispering words of encouragement as she worked him more and more, Sansa looked up at his face and smiled around him.

 

“Can I touch myself, please?” Sansa asked as she stroked him. Jon tilted his head as he looked at her, a playful look in his eye, “No. Good girls don’t do things like that.”

 

Sansa bit her lip and dropped him from her grasp to carefully and deliberately drag her hands down her blouse, to her thighs, to the wetness gathered between them. Jon stared down at her, daring her to disobey. Sansa let her finger begin to trace her slit, moaning as she did so. Jon leaned down and jerked her by her arm grabbing her up close so he was directly in her face, “Baby girl you want it don’t you?” She gasped when he pushed her up and over his desk so that she was bent over and bare for him.

 

Sansa _really_ liked this part.

 

“I,” _smack_ , “Said,” _smack_ , “No.” _Smack_.

 

Sansa reached her hands above her to grab at the end of his desk, wiggling her bare ass before him. The sensation of his cold desk against her made her want to shed all her clothes, but Jon was always so paranoid of being caught he never allowed her.

 

 _And who was Sansa to disobey_?

 

Jon then traced where her finger had just been, painfully slow and much too shallow. She wanted him to touch her, to feel him inside of her, and have his mouth all over her. The words gathered in her throat as Jon leaned down beside her ear, “I’m going to fuck you and you’re going to cum on this cock. Then you are going to suck off all your cum until you swallow all of mine.” Jon reached forward to grab her chin; “You’ll do that for me? Be a good girl and cum for Daddy?”

 

Sansa nodded eagerly just as he slipped his cock inside her throbbing folds, to suppress a loud moan or scream she clenched her teeth onto her hand. Jon began to mercilessly pound into her, her body bumping into his desk with each thrust and a moan escaping her lips each time he grunted or spoke her name. “Are you going to cum for me baby girl?”

 

Sansa turned to look at him pounding into her, the ferocity and lust across his usual stoic face. Jon stuck a finger inside her mouth for her to suck, and grinned darkly at her as she sucked hard and then pulled away, her teeth dragging along his index finger.

 

“Oh you naughty girl,” Jon reached below and began to rub her bundle of nerves and Sansa fought the urge to scream. It felt so good after so long, her release was so, so close. “Look at me, look at me when you cum for me.” Jon clenched his jaw tightly as he stared down at her. The familiar warm pull began to coil in her stomach and Sansa moaned along as she chased the high. It was a final smack to her ass that did it; she felt her eyes almost roll back as she called out Jon’s name. He stared down at her as she looked up at him, tears gathering in her eyes. It was absolute ecstasy.

 

Jon pulled from her gently and whispered in her ear, “Such a good girl, you’re being so good.” Sansa quivered at the comments, they made her start to get all worked up once more. Jon backed away hesitantly, pulling Sansa with him. Jon spun her around to grab her face again, placing soft, gentle kisses along the white of her neck. Then he placed a hungry kiss on her lips, gently tugging at her bottom lip with his teeth.

 

As he pulled away, he gave her that look, the smile he got when they were alone, and kissed her delicately on the forehead. Sansa fell to her knees once more and Jon ran his fingers through her hair, “That’s right baby girl, what are you going to do?”

 

Sansa raised a taunting eyebrow and it wasn’t missed by him, he tightened his grip on her hair, causing her to hiss slightly, “Suck all my cum off your cock.”

 

“That’s right. And where am I going to cum?” Jon asked her, his thumb running along her swollen bottom lip.

 

“In my mouth.” Sansa let her mouth go slack and licked the tip of Jon’s salty thumb; it tasted just like her sex.

 

Jon smirked, “I’m going to cum where ever I want to.”

 

Sansa nodded quickly, she loved this game. Was he going to cum on her tits so she could feel the warmth spread? Her face? Her mouth? Sansa loved those three places best, but occasionally Jon loved how it looked all over her reddened bottom.

 

She immediately went back to his cock, it was almost pulsing it was so hard. It tasted like her and Jon and absolute deliciousness, it made her moan all over again. Nothing made Jon cum quite like moaning on his cock. That, or the first time she called him Daddy.

 

She worked his cock tirelessly, sucking, bobbing, and stroking it until Jon began to fuck her mouth. Strained groans and curses passed through his lips as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, Sansa.”

 

“Cum Daddy, please cum.” Sansa licked along his tip before he shoved her mouth back on his cock. The saltiness exploded in her mouth as Jon let out a stifled shout. Sansa licked it all up, smiling up at him all the while. She loved being able to do this to him; it made her feel so powerful and sexy.

 

In the middle of meetings she’d remember the way he sounded when she’d finish him off, and once, she touched herself below the table so only he could see. Jon had fucked her extra hard that night.

 

Jon then fell to his knees, cupping her face and kissing her eyelids. “You pretty girl, get up there.” He scooped up her tired frame to sit on top of his desk, kissed her cheek, and then was back to his knees before her. A trail of warm, soft kisses made their way up her legs and to her inner thighs. His groomed beard was a mess by now and it tickled when he got closer, and just as Sansa almost let a giggle slip, he dipped a finger into her slick folds.

 

Sansa’s hands gripped at his desk, the papers that had been neatly stacked were scattered everywhere. Jon would ask her to help clean it up in the morning just so he could have an excuse to see her. Sansa threw her head back as Jon kissed his way to her bud, his finger moving excruciatingly slow. It was mesmerizing and exhausting and so _incredibly_ frustrating, but she relished it.

 

“That’s it baby, say my name.” Jon slipped another finger in and waited before moving.

 

“Yes Daddy, please, please.” Sansa squeezed her eyes and moaned when he began to pump faster and faster, his mouth began it’s sucking and circling and he made these noises that made her feel like Gigi Hadid from Vogue. That same warmth built up and as much as she tried to make this last, she knew it was only a matter of time before she’d cum around his fingers.

 

“Sansa, my sweet girl,” Jon hummed against her and Sansa lost it. The world spun on its axis as she gasped and moaned, her head tossed back and chest heaving.

 

Jon slipped his fingers out and kissed his way up to her face. Even though her eyes were still closed she could tell he was watching her, and it made her squeeze her eyes tighter. There was something about the come down that made Sansa feel so self-conscious and silly, like such a child in an adult’s world. Jon cupped her face and kissed her forehead, her eye lids, before placing a gentle and chaste kiss to her lips. “Whose Daddy’s good girl?”

 

Sansa’s eyes sprung open to see that smile he gave and couldn’t help but smirk in return. “Me. I’m Daddy’s good girl.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back by popular demand.

 

# Daddy's Girl

* * *

 

 

“Does he do this to you? Does he make you feel this good?” Jon hissed as he had two fingers pumping furiously inside of her. Sansa mewled quietly as Jon glared at her to keep quiet. It was after hours, of course, but Jon was still paranoid. As far as Sansa knew it was only her, her brother, and Jon left on their floor of the building. “Look at me. Tell me, does he make you cum Sansa?”

 

Sansa gritted her teeth and shook her head furiously, her head hitting the back of the white wall of his office. She stared into his intense eyes and watched the way he clenched his jaw as she whispered his name. “Tell me Sansa,” He carefully slowed his fingers, “Say it.” Her legs ached from standing and she took no relief in leaning against the wall, she just wanted to bend over for him, and she wanted it so badly.

 

“No. No one makes me cum like you do Daddy.” Sansa gasped as he continued his quickened pace and pushed himself closer to her. She inhaled the scent of him and screwed her eyes shut tight to concentrate on prolonging her pleasure. “That’s right baby girl. No one will ever make you cum like I do.”

 

“Please, please,” The pleading passed through her slightly parted mouth into his ear. Jon yanked his fingers from her suddenly, and Sansa called out at the loss of friction. Jon’s chest heaved as he stuck his left hand right beside her head and brought his right hand to her mouth, “Suck.” Sansa did as she was told, although begrudgingly, and licked all of her juices from his fingers.

 

It was her first day back at work since her winter break began. She started to see a guy from her brother fraternity, and Jon had been right there when Robb brought him up this morning. Jon hadn’t asked her about her school, or her grades, let alone her boyfriend, but when he asked her to help with some copies she had a feeling he’d have a thing or two to say. She had prepared this whole speech to tell him. About how she was grown now and needed a serious man who she had a future with. But the words slipped right of her mind as soon as she entered his office.

 

They hadn’t spoken much since she left for school in late August. Only an occasional text or two but only about updates at work. If Sansa was honest, she had sort of missed him. She definitely missed the way he made her feel, and that was her downfall as she stood topless before him currently. It had never been her strong suit to ignore her temptations. Also, she was never one to deprive herself of a good time.

 

And Jon Targaryen was a good time.

 

“I don’t think so.” Jon spoke as Sansa suckled his two fingers, his eyes dark. “Take your skirt off.”

 

Sansa’s eyes went wide.

 

“Do it.” Jon shoved his fingers farther into her mouth and smiled when she gagged. Sansa scowled at him as she tugged her skirt down and simultaneously kept his fingers in her mouth, and when she stood back in front of him, she grabbed his arm and shoved his fingers further into mouth to make herself gag once again.

 

Jon groaned and nodded his head, “You like that? You like it when I make you gag?”

 

“Yes Daddy,” Sansa gasped for air as she pulled away from his fingers. Jon slammed his right hand opposite of his left, boxing her inside. “You will be the _death_ of me.”

 

Sansa’s heart stopped as he raked his eyes over her bare frame and inhaled deeply through his nose. She opened her mouth to say something, but he clamped his hand over her mouth while shaking his head. “I want you so badly, but I won’t make you do this if you don’t want to.”

 

Sansa licked his hand on top of her mouth and nodded her head. _Who needed boys when you had a man?_

 

“Are you sure?” Jon cocked his eyebrow and looked her over again.

 

“Please Daddy.” Her plea was muffled by his hand, but he pulled her lips to his nonetheless. Sansa closed her eyes and brought her hands to thread through his combed back hair. It was longer than it had been this summer, and she clenched onto his curls just to hear him hiss. Secretly, she hoped it’d make him mad enough to bend her over and teach her a lesson.

 

But he only licked at her lips and brought a hand to the column of her throat. “Are you going to be a good girl now and cum for Daddy?”

 

“Please,” Sansa begged as he tightened his hold on her neck. Jon stepped forward and looked down, “Take off my pants, now.” Jon released his grasp and nudged her to her knees. It was her favorite part, and she slowly moved her hands from his shins, over his knees, up to his thighs, to rub gently over the hardness of his erection. He groaned at the contact and hissed when she quickly unsnapped his dress pants and leaned forward to take his zipper in with her teeth. “Christ,” He hissed as she looked up at him and drug the little metal zipper down to free him of his pants.

 

The navy pair pooled around his ankles and his underwear quickly joined them. Sansa slowly licked over his free cock, and she drank in the way he sounded when she kissed the tip. “Get it nice and wet baby girl, get it all wet for your pussy.”

 

“I’m on the pill,” Sansa broke away to tell him off handedly, but when she went to return to his cock, he placed a hand on the top of her head. Confused, she glanced up at him and reached out for him once more, but Jon only stared down at her. “On the pill?”

 

Oh.

 

She hadn’t been on it this summer and she’d only begun once she got it for free from school. Her mother would never approve and there was no way she could talk her into it being about menstruation or acne. Sansa took it as soon as she and her roommate found out it was available, just to be safe. So she had just further revealed to Jon that she was indeed fucking other guys, and that she was on the pill for it.

 

“Suck.” Jon grabbed both sides of her head and Sansa fought to not smile around his dick. She was really going to get it now. Sansa took all of his cock into her mouth until he began pumping, fucking her mouth and throat until she made the noises that made him so wild.

 

“Get up,” Jon pulled from her mouth, leaving her gasping, and gently grabbed her up to stand on her feet. Of course she still wore her heels, Jon liked the way they made her ass look, and she wondered if he noticed she wore her higher ones today on purpose. “Lean over,” Jon commanded for her to grab onto his desk. She smiled devilishly at all the memories of their summer and could only hope that he’d give her the same treatment.

 

“You are a very, _very_ bad girl.” Jon pulled a seat up to sit behind her, and Sansa looked over at him in bewilderment. This wasn’t how this usually went. She remained silent, but Jon didn’t move a muscle once he sat in the seat behind her. “Go on and show Daddy how you’ve cum without me.”

 

Sansa looked at him wide eyed and curious. She had no idea what he meant or what he wanted her to do.

 

“Go on. Touch yourself for Daddy.” Jon nodded towards her, his pants were back on and the fact that she was completely naked made her grow incredibly awkward. Sansa spun around and looked at him, “I…I don’t know how.”

 

It was the truth.

 

She had heard about it and talked about it, but had never really tried a hand at it herself. Sure, she’d stick her hand down there every once in a while, but she’d never actually finished herself off. Sansa glared at him as his shoulders shook in laughter. “You know exactly what I mean, baby.”

 

Sansa bit her lip as Jon crossed his legs deliberately, “Go on. Lean over and touch yourself. Show Daddy what those other boys have done to you.”

 

After letting out a little sigh she spun back into position, leaning over his desk, making sure she was giving him a really good view. First she cupped her hand around her tits, playing with them, tugging at her perky nipples. Then she lazily lowered her hand and began to carefully swirl her hand around the top part that felt really good. The one that Jon always licked so attentively until she saw stars. Sansa let herself moan, really getting into the way it felt to have someone watch.

 

The boys at school had not done this to her. Her boyfriend was about to be a distant memory and thing of the past, and even he hadn’t made her feel this good without even touching her. What felt the best was making Jon think this was how they made her feel, she liked the idea of teasing him and making him think that he wasn’t the only one. Making him _jealous_.

 

Sansa moved to the slickness of her folds and dipped a finger inside, moaning as she did so. She began to rock against herself, shaking her ass, and pumping faster. She knew she was going to make herself cum, she felt that coil wrapping itself around her insides, the warmth of it pushing her. Sansa began to work herself faster and harder, until she finally, for the first time, came all by herself. All for her Daddy.

 

“Oh Joffrey,” Sansa moaned out for good measure. She heard the creak of Jon’s seat and she could just feel the heat radiating from him. God she ached for him to reach out and grab her, to touch her and make her his, but he only hovered beside her to whisper hotly, “I’m not buying it sweetheart.” Jon moved his hand up the back of her thigh to the round of her ass and popped it once. Hard and fast. She let out a yelp and he whispered, “No one makes you feel like this.”

 

Jon spanked her two more times and said, “Who’s the only one who makes you cum?”

 

Sansa stayed silent and bared herself down for the next hit. She stifiled the moan by biting her lip, she batted her eyelashes innocently. “Tell me, Sansa. Tell me who makes you cum.”

 

Sansa shook her head back and forth and let out a small scream as he whacked her ass one, two, three times. Jon hurriedly tugged his pants off and began to rub himself against the wet of her folds. She groaned and gripped harder onto his desk. “You want to cum for me, baby girl? Do you need me to remind you who makes you cum the hardest?”

 

Sansa squeezed her eyes shut, “I want to cum so badly, please show me.”

 

Then, she heard a footsteps in the hallway and felt Jon still. If Robb walked in now, it’d be over. Ice ran through her veins as sheer panic overwhelmed her senses. But just as Robb stopped before  Jon’s office, his phone beeped with a message, and he was off. Robb began to whistle as he got further and further away.

 

And before Sansa could get back into her right head space, Jon was spitting on her ass and shoving the top of his digit inside. She hissed out and bucked against the intrusion, but Jon slipped a finger easily back into her pussy and the sensation almost made her finish right then and there. “That’s right. Daddy’s little girl loves it in all her holes. Tell me you love it.”

 

Sansa moaned, “I love it Daddy, please harder, please. I want your cock inside me.”

 

And for the first time Jon listened to her begging. He slipped his cock inside and slowly moved, so slowly it made her cry out. Jon kept his finger inside her ass while he continued his slow, deep strokes. “Tell me whose making you feel good.”

 

“Daddy. Daddy you’re making me feel so good.” Tears of pleasure and frustration clouded her eyes, it felt like heaven. She was moments from being pushed over the edge and he knew it. Jon knew exactly how to leave her begging for more and just when to make her quiver around him. “That’s right baby girl, don’t you ever forget it.”

 

Jon leaned over her, his head right beside hers, as he quickened his pace. Sansa began to meet his thrusts and moaned his name over and over. Jon grunted and whispered encouragements for a moment before standing straight and gently shoving his finger further into her ass. Sansa yelped out and Jon continued to fuck her, going deeper and deeper until she felt her eyes begin to roll. “ _Please, please, please_.”

 

Jon smacked her ass and leaned into her ear, “I’m going to cum inside you now and you’re going to think about it all night until I fuck you again.” Sansa nodded eagerly and tried to arch her back even more for him. Jon moaned at the sight and smacked her ass one more time. “Cum for Daddy, baby girl. I want to see your face when you cum for me.”

 

Sansa cried out and shouted but kept her eyes on his as the warmth spread through her body. She began to shake and quiver around him as she moaned, “Daddy, Daddy, please.” Jon pulled his finger from her and used both his hands on her hips to drive deeper into her. “Beg for it baby, beg.”

 

“Cum in me, Daddy. Cum in me.” Sansa repeated as she reached down to touch herself.

 

Jon threw his head back as he continued to fuck her, “That's right, touch yourself baby girl, I want to see you touch yourself for Daddy.”

  
Sansa reached below and again, did as she was told, and began to touch the bundle of nerves until that same feeling built up. “Oh fuck,” Jon cried out as the warmth spread inside her. Sansa collapsed onto his desk in a heap of sex, sweat, and exhaustion. A soft kiss was planted on her shoulder, her neck, and then her cheek. “Daddy’s good girl.”

 

She let out a small giggle and looked up at him catching his breath, his hands on his hips and looking intently down at her. He was wearing her favorite smile. “So, how’s school?”

 

She laughed and shook her head, “I don’t want to talk about school.”

 

“Oh, you don’t?” Jon teased. His little crinkles by his eyes formed as he gave her a side smile and she felt her heart swell.

 

Sansa turned and got off his desk, then reached her arm out to wrap around his neck. “I want you.” She placed a kiss on his chin then his mouth, but pulled away as he chuckled, “I’m an old man now Sansa, I need some time to recover.”

 

“You’re not _that_ old.” Sansa scrunched up her nose.

 

“39 today.” Jon nodded at the flowers on his desk. Sansa’s eyes widened for a moment, feeling momentarily guilty for not knowing, but then a smile grew across her face as she thought of the perfect present, “More reason to celebrate.”

 

“God you’ll be the _death_ of me.” Jon grabbed her face and pulled her in for another kiss.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok gotta go take a cold shower now! Byeeeee


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can't stop writing for this???? Robb is absolutely clueless omg.

# Daddy's Girl

* * *

Two. More. Weeks. That’s all. Sansa has to push through the next two weeks and then she is Cabo San Lucas bound with her sorority sisters. She can’t help but mentally sift through her to do list as she pretends to listen to Robb’s voicemails for the second time. This was her last shift working to scrap together some extra money. By some miracle she’d gotten permission and a little money from her very generous mother, and the rest, well…she had a good friend willing to help out. She figured now was as good a time as any to go on a crazy vacation with all her friends. When would she get another opportunity like this again? Real life adulthood was creeping up sooner than she’d like to think about.

 

“Sansa!” Robb knocked on her desk causing her to flinch. “Jesus, I’ve said your name like three times. Are you alright?”

 

“Yeah! Sorry, listening to voicemails.” Sansa set the phone on the receiver and looked up at her frazzled brother. Robb looked older somehow, his curls beginning to gray just the same as Jon’s. Sansa swallowed.

 

“The bagels will be here in a bit, but I don’t want to pass them out until after the meeting. I don’t want all the cinnamon ones to be taken up.” Robb scrolls through his BlackBerry, “Do you mind hiding them in Jon’s office once they show?”

 

“Um, sure, yes.” Sansa nods and sighs, “Sorry.”

 

Robb doesn’t look up. “You’re good. The meeting is at 9:30 and then everyone is free to go when it’s done. Do you mind sending out a memo?”

 

Sansa nods and opens up her e-mail tab to send out notices. Saturdays were usually workdays for Jon and Robb regardless, but it was rare to have the entire office in on a weekend. From what Sansa got out of him the other day was that today was a huge deal and if they landed it, they deserved a couple hours of peace.

 

Something about plots of land and golf courses, the whole reality thing really wasn’t Sansa’s calling. Just being the receptionist for this place was boring enough, she couldn’t imagine dedicating hours of research on what grass to plant on what property.

 

“Sure. Anything else?” Sansa started typing up the mass e-mail.

 

“Yeah, could you come to the meeting? The Lannisters are old family friends, although that’s a stretch. Anyways, if you don’t mind it would be really helpful if you took notes.” Robb looks up from his phone then to snicker.

 

Sansa vaguely remembers the Lannisters but she agrees nonetheless. “Awesome. Ok, see you in 30 minutes.” Robb knocks on her desk once more before turning away to answer a phone call. As he passes through the lobby he points to the opening door at the delivery boy with arms full of brown bags. Sansa quickly rises to her feet and greets the sweaty kid with a warm smile, “Thank you so much.”

 

“Yeah,” He’s practically growling but his eyes soften when they meet hers, a blush crawls across his face, “Sure. Anytime.”

 

Sansa grabs the bags, “We paid over the phone right? Did he tip?”

 

The kid has got to be around 16 and he nods nervously, swallowing a few times, “Ye-yeah.”

 

“Great. Bye then. Have a nice day.” Sansa gives a little wave and spins away from the nerve wracked kid.

 

“You too!” He calls out with a voice crack.

 

“Jesus. Poor kid.” Sansa practically runs into Jon.

 

“Hi,” Sansa says breathlessly, arms full of warm bagels, and an excited grin.

 

“Good morning.” Jon gathered the bags from her and nods his head for her to follow him. Sansa opens her mouth to say she really needs to check the voicemails, but decides against it. Its not like she would’ve really been listening anyhow. So she follows closely behind him and tries not to make it obvious how nervous she is.

 

It’d been about two months since his birthday and a month since she’d last been alone in his office. As in _alone_ in his office.

 

Sansa doesn’t close the door when she follows him inside, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Jon sets the bags down onto a spare chair and straightens his tie. She pulls at her skirt and messes with the hem. Today she’d worn her black pencil skirt, light blue button up blouse, with black ankle strap heels. They were Louboutins and a Christmas gift from the very man standing before her.

 

She’d told her mother she’d bought them secondhand for super cheap from a sorority sister.

 

“You look nice.” Jon’s eyes rake over her appreciatively. His gaze spreads fire throughout every inch of her skin. Sansa felt her blush crawling then, feeling just like the delivery boy she’d spoken to moments ago. “Thanks.” She looked down at her shoes and then pretended to scratch at her nose.

 

“Are you excited for spring break?” Jon sat down in his seat and crossed his arms behind his head. Sansa nodded eagerly, “Yes! Everyone is going. Mom even gave me some money to buy some new bikinis.”

 

“Did she?” Jon raised an eyebrow and smoothed a hand over his neatly trimmed beard.

 

Sansa nodded and folded her hands together. “Yeah, I got them a month ago.”

 

“That’s nice of her.” Jon smiled and nodded towards the open door behind her. “Want to close that?”

 

Heat rushed to her lower stomach as her pulse quickened. Sansa swallowed at her suddenly dry throat, “Do you want me to?”

 

Jon pushed his seat back, “I think you want to close that door.”

 

Sansa spun around and reached out, her hand touching the oak door gently. As she gave it a shove she already could feel his presence behind her. Once it clicked shut she was shoved against it, Jon’s lips hot on her neck. Sansa bit her lip to stifle a moan and screwed her eyes shut tight at his erection pressing hard onto her thigh. He kissed his way up her neck to her lips, completely devouring her.

 

Sansa winced for a moment when she thought about her lipstick, but figured it was too late now. Jon didn’t seem to mind the taste of Maybelline.

 

Jon licked the inside of her mouth before grabbing her face with his hand, “Those shoes look good on you.”

 

“Thank you.” Sansa’s voice was barely above a whisper as she gasped for air.

 

Jon gently pushed her head up against the door and used his other hand to run up her thigh, achingly slow. Sansa gasped when he traced his finger along the course of her panties. Today she’d worn tights because of the weather; it was too damn cold for her to bare her pasty legs to the winter air.

 

“I want to see those bikinis.” Jon whispered in her ear.

 

“You can.” Sansa’s voice shook.

 

Jon looked into her eyes, his grey eyes turning black, before placing another kiss to her lips. “I know I can. I want to.”

 

“I…I can take pictures.” Sansa swallowed when he looked back at her.

 

“Send them to me.” Jon let go of her face and surprised her by hoisting up her legs to wrap around his middle, “I want to see what every other boy gets to see while you lay out on the beach. Are you going to dance with other boys while you’re there Sansa?” Jon squeezed her ass tightly.

 

Sansa threw her head back, not caring about the hairs falling from her tightly pulled bun, and let out a low moan.

 

“Are you going to go wild with your sisters? Kiss one of them because it’s just _so_ fun and you can’t help it?” Jon whispered the words against her exposed neck causing chills to run up her spine. God, she was soaking. Somehow it always surprised her how he managed to get her this way. Nobody ever got her this hot.

 

“I’ve already kissed my friends.” Sansa replied, knowing the response she’d get.

 

Jon smacked her ass and pushed her up against the door once more while holding her in his arms. Sansa’s legs tightened around his waist as his arms snaked up to gently caress her sides. “You are a naughty girl, Sansa Stark.”

 

“Yes _daddy_ ,” She smiled wickedly into his kiss once again, loving the way her fingers felt in his curls. Sansa tugged at them with the same fervor he currently did with her own hair.

  
Then there it was. A knock. The vibrations rattled against her skull as her eyes shot open to Jon’s. He dropped her gently, “Yeah?”

 

Sansa began to wipe at her lips and tuck her shirt back into its place, scrambling to keep up appearances. Jon waved her over to the bagels eagerly. “Jon? Meeting briefing-“ Jon opened the door for her brother, even though part of his shirt was out of place. Robb looked him up and down in confusion, “You alright, man?”

 

“Yeah, yeah. Just got off the phone. What’s up?” Jon patted down his hair once more and smiled. He was doing a better job than Sansa at keeping her cool. Hopefully her hair looked better now that’d she’d done it back into it’s bun, and she prayed, oh she prayed, that her lipstick wasn’t as smudged as she imagined it’d be at this moment. She wiped at her lips some more when Robb said, “Oh good, bagels are here. Thanks for stashing them San.”

 

Sansa spun around and smiled angelically, “Sure. See you guys in 10.”

 

She pushed past them as quickly as possible, dying to get away before Robb could ask any questions. That’d been so stupid of them. Sansa knew better than to close the door in the middle of the day. Let alone the morning. _Right before a big, important business meeting._

Jon and her had continued their usual charade over the past few months. Occasional texts, calls, and Sansa worked when she could get the hours. What kept her coming back for more was the complete mystery of everything. Would he call her into his office? When would he do it? What would he do? Sometimes, it was really work and other times…not. But throughout it all there was always a constant rule: nothing like what just happened in the middle of the day.

 

Sansa scurried over to her desk to grab up the notes Robb had given her last week to go over. She knew the Lannisters were a huge family with lots of plans. From Sansa’s understanding, they had the plans, and the Lannister’s had the funds. So this morning Robb and Jon were presenting them the finalized plans for two neighborhoods, a pool, and a golf course. They had poured over every meticulous detail and would pass any test about the information they were providing this morning. She wouldn’t be surprised if they could report this plan backwards.

 

Meanwhile, Sansa had midterms to study for and a social life, so therefore had glanced over it until she got the basic gist of it. She had called Jon last week to ask about it but had gotten side tracked talking about her upcoming trip and break up with her boyfriend. He’d deposited $1,000 in her account when she talked about how broke she’d be at the beach.

 

Sansa bit back a smile as she scanned over the reports, but just as she was getting to the most important part, the front doors opened. In walked two tall blondes with a shorter one following behind. She stood up and walked to the other side of her desk to greet them, “Hello, what can I help you with today?”

 

“Well _hello._ ” The short man winked at her. The tall woman grimaced as the man’s eyes brightened. “We’re here for a meeting with Robb Stark and Jon Targaryen.” The woman snipped.

 

“Right. The Lannisters?” Sansa stuck her hand out to the tall man, “I’m Sansa Stark.”

 

“Been a long time Sansa Stark.” A warm smile floated across his face, making the woman all the irritated.

 

“Yes, yes, great to see another Stark. Where are Robb and Jon?” The woman scowled as the man let go of her hand.

 

“Right here.” Robb stuck his hand out beside Sansa to shake hers, “How are you, Cersei?”

 

“As good as I can be before a meeting on Saturday.” Cersei’s smile doesn’t match her eyes.

 

“Who shat in your cornflakes, good grief.” The short man stuck his hand out to shake Robb’s.

 

“Good to see you Tyrion.” Robb began small talk with Tyrion and Sansa felt eyes on hers. She noticed the blonde man checking her out, his eyes glazing over at the sight of her legs peaking out from her skirt. Sansa pulled at her hem self-consciously for a moment and tried to smile despite the man’s almost predatory grin.

 

“Jaime.” Jon’s arm came right beside Sansa’s face; she had to practically duck to get out of his way. Jon shook his hand fierce and strong, never breaking eye contact.

 

“Well good morning, Jon Targaryen.” Jaime sounded like proud, almost like he’d just pieced together a complicated puzzle. His eyes flitted from hers to Jon’s. _Shit_. It was _her_ puzzle.

 

“Let’s get this started, shall we?” Robb motioned for them all to make their way down the hall and to the conference room.

 

They all turned and followed behind Cersei and Robb who were already knee deep in small talk, probably just to get it over and done with. How could two people make the weather sound like such a heated debate?

 

“I haven’t seen you around here before.” Jaime’s voice is smooth as honey from beside her.

 

“I go to school up at the Vale. I work here full time during summer.” Sansa smiled sweetly at the handsome man. Jaime’s jawline must've been carved by God himself Sansa noted as she looked him over. He was also older than Jon, not that he looked like it. She only assumed since she knew he'd known her father, and not that age was an issue. Sansa smirked when she saw the way he was looking at her.

 

“What are you in school for?” Jaime made the question sound as if he’d just asked her if she liked being handcuffed or tied up better.

 

“English.” Sansa smoothed her hair just for something to do.

 

“That’s a great subject. Hey, have you-“ Jaime started but Jon cleared his throat loudly as he passed between them to get into the conference room. Sansa looked at Jaime who was currently staring after Jon with a shit-eating grin.

 

“Ladies first,” Jaime motioned for her, his arm held out as Sansa entered the room. Robb and Cersei were going through folders already. “Thank you, Jaime.” Tyrion pretended to flip his hair as he followed behind Sansa. Tyrion climbed up into the seat next to his sister as Sansa sat on the other side of Jon.

 

Robb slid the remote down the table to Sansa, “Sansa, could you turn the lights please?” She did as she was told and even began to turn on the overhead so that Robb’s presentation could start sooner.

 

“How are you liking school Sansa?” Jaime asked as he looked through his phone absentmindedly.

 

“I love it.” Sansa beamed as she reached above her head to mess with the projector. Her blouse pulled from her skirt and began to show a bit of her tummy, but she was too focused on getting the damned thing on and focused to fix it now.

 

When she finally got it started up she finally put her arms down by her sides and noticed the three men staring at her. “That’s a pretty high fall.” Tyrion smirked as he looked between his brother and Jon. Jaime smiled, “Be careful. Wouldn’t want you getting hurt.”

 

Jon looked back to Robb as he leaned over to whisper about something Sansa didn’t catch. Not that it mattered; she just went back to her seat and settled in across from Jaime and next to Jon. The tension in the room built as Robb and Cersei both silently scanned the folders they’d passed to one another.

 

“Read this.” Robb slid it to Jon just as Jaime touched her foot with his own. Her eyes widened as she jerked her foot away in surprise. She silently prayed it went unnoticed by the man next to her, but knew better than to wish for such things. How much better would it be for Jon to actually witness another man interested in her, right before his very eyes? No fantasies, no teasing, an actual real life guy making moves. Sansa bit her lip at the thought and moved her foot back over to rest right up next to Jaime’s.

 

“Well, what do we have Stark?” Cersei slid on her glasses and sat back as the PowerPoint began. Sansa began to tap her toes in nervousness, either from the silence of Jon or for her brother’s big presentation, either way she was an anxious mess. Jon reached a hand across and pressed down on her knee, keeping her feet from their tapping. Sansa immediately stilled at the feel of his firm hand.

 

Jaime rubbed his foot alongside the very foot being held in place by Jon’s grip. His shoe then began caressing her calf. Sansa’s mouth went into a firm line to keep from laughing, all this contact was about to make her giggle.

 

Jon continued reading the folder as Robb went on about location and timing. Jaime cleared his throat, “Have you seen the lands, Sansa?”

 

“No, I haven’t actually.” Sansa answered honestly. Jaime’s foot rubbed against her leg in a slow and teasing manner, Sansa smiled innocently.

 

“You’ll have to see it sometime. Maybe if all this works out, I could show you around. In case you want to get into the business.” Jaime crossed his arms and sat back against his chair.

 

Robb looked between the two of them and cringed, “Uh, anyways. So the hills won’t be that much of an issue…” It was clear he wasn’t going to tackle that issue now. The idea that his future business partner was hitting on his sister was not a major concern right now. But Jon on the other hand was practically radiating heat beside her; she could feel the tension of his clenched jaw. Sansa chanced a look at him and watched as he glared at Jaime and then back to his folder.

 

 

Jaime made another comment, but all she could focus on was Jon’s hand rubbing against her thigh, his grip hard and hot. Her breath became shallow when Robb switched slides and presented a pie chart. Jon passed underneath her skirt then, and his fingers continued going up and up.

 

His eyes never left the folder, and Sansa’s never left the presentation. She did her best to keep her breath even as his fingers were right back where they were when they’d been in his office. His fingers traced their familiar path, the heat pooled inside her panties. Sansa bit her lower lip discreetly as he slides his hand away.

 

“Hey Jaime, do you happen to have a pen?” Jon asked suddenly holding a hand out.

 

“Sure thing.” Jaime continued to rub her leg as he passed Jon a very expensive looking monogrammed pen.

 

Jon wrote something onto the folder and then subtly lowered it to his lap and slid his hands right back to where they had been. Sansa’s eyes widened as she felt the pressure of the pen against her most intimate spot, but willed herself to keep silent. A small noise sliced through the air as Jon broke a hole into her tights, but no one seemed to notice. Jon dropped the pen and then began working his two fingers to widen the hole bigger, and bigger, and bigger.

 

Sansa shimmied her hips slightly, but Jon pressed on her thigh to get her to stop. She was being too obvious, but couldn’t bring herself to care. Right now all she wanted was him.

 

Jon then pushed her panties to the side and shot her a meaningful side-glance, then touched his finger to her bare skin. Sansa looked down to keep from gasping at the touch. This was crazy, this was absolutely insane, and this was _so fucking hot_.

 

Sansa brought Jaime’s pen he’d used to rip her tights and brought it up to her lip, casually running it along then feigning interest in the meeting before her.

 

Jon then turned quickly towards her and drove a digit inside with a single, fierce whisper, “Mine.”

 

Sansa swallowed and bit the pen to keep from squealing, god she wanted him right now. Meeting be dammed. Sansa wanted to be bent over and fucked on this oak table right this moment.

 

Jon pumped his finger in and out of her and it was fucking horrible to have to sit so still and silent for him. All the while with Jaime’s foot against her and his pen in her mouth. Robb turned to them, “And that brings us to the golf course. Jon?”

 

His finger was gone, the friction lost, and the moment evaporated entirely as Jon shut the folder and traded places with Robb. Sansa wanted to cry out, to scream, to grab him and tackle him and force him inside her.

 

Sansa immediately pulled her legs in close and away from Jaime; he’d served his purpose. “Here’s your pen.” Sansa rolled it across the table and then looked to watch Jon presenting the project with ease. He hardly batted a lash and Sansa chewed on her lip as she thought about the erection he had to be hiding in his waistband.

 

“This area over here would be great for the Daddy and me camp.” Jon pointed to his plot on the map and stared directly at Sansa.

 

“I like the sound of that.” Sansa spoke up but nobody seemed to hear but him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a tease and for that I apologize. I promise I'll make it up to you 0:)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bondage, rough sex, and a little S&M is normal and fun as long as it is consensual. Always be clear with your partner and respect their boundaries. That being said, ENJOY! :)

# Daddy's Girl

* * *

“Say it again.” Jon’s breath is hot against Sansa’s neck causing her to bite back her temptation to moan. Her arms are currently bound tightly behind her back by Jon’s red tie. While her legs are strewn on either side of his and just a mere, teasing inch from the radiating heat of his hard cock. Sansa is practically panting as his fingers grip harder onto her hips. “Tell me baby girl, _say it_.”

  
  
“I'm yours,” Sansa’s voice is high and breathy, “All yours, Daddy.”

  
“That's right.” Jon’s fingers are bound to leave bruises that Sansa will later faintly trace with her own, “My good girl.”

  
She’s complete bare before him as she straddles his lap but she has none of the contact she's aching for. The frustration and tease is both agreed upon and welcome, but Sansa’s patience began wearing thin long ago. Sometime between the spankings and kissing Sansa had started to build up and break down, and wanted nothing more than his hands on her and his cock inside her.

  
“Please,” Her voice squeaks, “I’m so wet for you.”

  
Jon lets out a low growl and pulls her on top of his clothed cock, hard and visible, and lets out a breath of relief when she immediately grinds against him. “You're so fucking wet baby girl, so wet for me.”

  
Sansa’s eyes are closed tightly and have been since Jon told her so as soon as he began to slowly peel off her articles of clothing. It's probably been about 20 minutes, but somehow feels like hours, and her being completely exposed to him makes her all the more impatient.

  
Her hips are grinding furiously against him almost in anger, each time pressing further onto him. Jon remains relatively silent and it's causing both an annoyance and insecurity in her to rise. “That's it baby, make it feel good. You've been so good for me.”

  
Sansa lets out a guttural moan and heat begins to pull and tumble in her lower stomach, she doesn't know how much longer she'll last, or if she's supposed to ask before she finishes. But it's too late to ask questions when she sees the stars behind her eyes, her head leans back in pleasure, and her hands grip the edge of the chair as she chants Jon’s name over and over.

  
Her eyes flutter open to see Jon’s jaw set firmly, this can't be good, but _oh, it can_. His eyes are dark as he leans his head against the back of his office chair. “Get down.”

  
Sansa tilts her head at him, pouting, and shakes her head.

  
“Somebody didn't ask.” Jon licks his lower lip, “Daddy’s good girl shouldn't cum or open her eyes without asking first. Good girls always ask.”

  
Sansa continues pouting as she shimmies off of his legs, her wetness all over her inner thighs, and gets to her knees. She peers up at him through her thick lashes with her hands still behind her back. Jon grabs her chin, “Do you want to be untied?” He raises an eyebrow and uses his thumb to trace her lower lip.

  
Sansa shakes her head furiously before slowly leaning her head back from the light pressure of his touch. Any sort of contact from him is welcome and wanted at this point.  Jon snickers above her and uses his other hand to finally unzip and free his cock. As soon as his pants hit the floor it takes every ounce of will power for her to withhold a groan. Jon presses the pad of his thumb to her lips and she kisses it gently. Then Sansa begins to slowly sink her mouth onto it, sucking gently at his digit until he finally squirms. Sansa smiles around his thumb at the satisfaction, so Jon quickly pulls his thumb from her. “Go on, suck.”

  
Jon has to hold his cock for her while she rises to her knees from resting her reddened bottom onto the backs of her heels. Sansa takes him into her mouth and begins to slowly take more and more of him in as she traces him with her tongue. Sansa peers up at him as she takes him in to the back of her throats and bobs gently, just enough to gag herself slightly, because Jon’s not making enough noise for her liking.

 

Sansa is working at an antagonizing pace and loving every second of it. She works to earn his gasps and the moans he fails to withhold from her. It’d been a very, very long day at work and they’d only been able to speak about twice. She’d spent the entirety of her afternoon thinking about this very moment. The feeling of his thick cock in her mouth, the taste of him, and just how he’ll smile down at her when she’s done a good job for him.

  
Suddenly, his hand is in her hair and he's rising from his seat to his feet, his hard cock still in her mouth. Jon then places his other hand on her head and raises an eyebrow, they've done this many time before, and Sansa knows just how to relax her throat so he can fuck her mouth. She moans around him at the thought and begins lightly sucking.

  
“ _Christ_.” Jon hisses as he slowly starts to slide in and out from her mouth, “You love this, don't you?”

  
Sansa nods slightly but he stills her with his firm grip in her hair, she steels herself and moans right as Jon begins to thrust to the back of her throat. She leans forward and moans the best as she can with his cock filling her mouth. His head is thrown back as he continues thrusting roughly into her and Sansa watches his mouth open through her teary eyes.

  
It hurts so _good_ , the burn of her want, the feel of his cock repeatedly hitting against the back of her throat. Sansa struggles to stay on her knees, but Jon keeps her in one place. Jon is whispering a chorus of dirty talk and pulling at her hair. Sansa is completely consumed by him and the moment, forgetting whom and where she was, but is snapped back as soon as he withdraws his cock from the warmth of her mouth.

  
  
Sansa means to scowl but stops herself when she sees Jon’s expression. A warm smile spread across his face as he gently removes his hands from her hair. “Up baby girl, come here.”  He motions her to stand with his index finger.

  
  
Jon takes a step back and sinks into his desk chair once again. Sansa crawls towards him on her knees and goes to take him back into her mouth when he reaches down and unties her restrained arms. “Ah!” Sansa wobbles at the surprise but is cut short by Jon lifting her up. His arms are firm around her waist, holding her closely as she slowly snakes her legs around his. Jon’s looking at her differently and it's causing the heat to rise to her cheeks. Sansa swings her now freed arms around his neck and presses her face into his shirt.

  
  
Jon lets out a quiet chuckle and places a gentle hand to her head and squeezes her. The blush fades and Sansa finds herself safe and warm in Jon’s arms. It's completely silent in the closed office as it's probably around 8:00, everyone is long gone and the only sounds are Jon and Sansa’s breathing as he holds her. Jon lays her gently onto his desk and Sansa holds her breath for what comes next. Things have never been like this before and the uncertainty is making her a bit anxious.

 

But he only backs away to unbutton his dress shirt; usually he has her rip it, and tugs his undershirt up over his head. They've never had sex with both of them completely naked like this, and a warm feeling tugs at Sansa’s chest.

  
He smiles softly at her, those wrinkles gently creasing by his friendly eyes, and he leans down to kiss her lips. Sansa reaches around and wraps her arms around his bareback and he lets her. Jon begins to kiss his way down her body, but it's much more gentle and drawn out than his lips’ usual heated and frantic path. He trails them so _lovingly_ that the realization causes Sansa to squirm.

 

Jon’s hands are on her hips and he’s kissing right above her bud, looking square at her, and raises his head hesitantly, “Are you alright?”

 

Sansa, breathless, hasn’t looked away from him this entire time and shakes her head urgently. She only bites her lip and sets her head back to rest on his wooden desk. It probably costs thousands of dollars, _but not as much as the car he just bought her_. The thought evaporates as soon as his tongue starts it’s magic. Working and swirling at every inch of her intimate parts, it is her favorite part of this, but she’d never say that out loud. The noises she makes as he kisses at her make her blush just as much as the first time, but she’s glad he can’t see her face.

 

Jon slips a finger inside her and Sansa lets out a squeal, she can feel Jon huff in laughter against her thigh, and continues licking right at her most sensitive bit. She’s older now, more experienced, she knows it’s a clit and she knows that Joffrey doesn’t know.

 

Jon is thrusting his finger inside her and it’s making her feel like she’s about to just burst into pieces, when she feels his middle finger start to beg entrance at her puckered hole. Sansa hisses but makes no complaint when he slips his second finger inside. She is so full, so full of Jon Targaryen and the thought just about sends her over the edge.

 

“You ready baby girl?” Jon takes his mouth away from her but speaks in whispers against her, “You want this cock?”

 

“Please, please.” Sansa juts her hips upwards and Jon doesn’t laugh like he usually does at his earned eagerness. Instead he still continues, although haltingly, pumping his fingers inside her and straightens up a bit to look her in her eyes. Jon’s got this look on his face and it’s one she’s never seen. It causes her to squirm once again, “Please Daddy.”

 

Jon stands up now and withdraws his fingers from her; causing her to whimper and gasp. Sansa is wide-eyed and staring as he leans forward and grabs her chin lightly, “Sweet girl.” Jon plants a kiss onto her lips, his eyes screwed shut, but Sansa’s remain open. She watches him even as he pulls away and urges her to lie back down.

 

As always she does what he asks of her and is laid before him all over again. Jon is looking down on her now, tracing her hungrily with his eyes, and stroking at his cock. “You’re making me nervous,” Sansa pants in admission but is cut short with the sudden intrusion of his cock inside of her.

 

She sighs his name and clings to him, thankful to finally have him once again. School had been draining and she was probably the only person in the world who looked forward to work as a de-stressor. Sansa could always count on Jon to make things better, lighter, and easier.

 

Jon slows his strokes and pulls from her vice grip to look down at her. His fingers begin hesitantly tracing her jawline, neck, and then down to her hardened nipples. Sansa pushes her chest up, ready to be teased and pulled, but Jon simply circles around the pale pink of her nipples, and kisses softly at her neck. His pace is affectionate and attentive and it’s so fucking hard to concentrate when his hand lowers to rub at her mound. Sansa is already so close to peaking but stubbornly continues fighting to last.

 

Sansa runs her nails down his back and would be surprised if there were no marks left behind. Silently she mouths ‘mine’ into the room, the atmosphere, fucking whatever because it’s the farthest thing from true and doesn't really matter. But in this moment he is, they are one, and Jon Targaryen is all hers.

 

Jon is decorating her neck, collarbone, and shoulders in soft, open-mouthed kisses but Sansa can tell from the crease in his brow that he’s close. Sansa looks up at the ceiling to finally lose herself in this feeling. And as her eyes shut, Jon hisses, “Cum for me. Cum for Daddy, baby girl.”

 

And she does.

 

She always does.

 

It’s magnificent and soul consuming and everything she’s needed.

 

Jon collapses on top of her in a heap of sweat, laughter, and passion. His breath is labored but his tone is sweet when he whispers into her ear, “I love you. I love you Sansa Stark.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We all needed a little fluff


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this.......becoming a real life fic?

# Daddy's Girl

* * *

Sansa prays for the phones to ring for the first time since being hired at the office. Her entire body willed for something, anything, to give her an excuse to get out of this.

 

“Sansa.” Jon’s borderline begging and it doesn’t suit him. His steady hands are rested on her desk and his broad, sinewy stature appears shrunken with his body leaning towards her the way that it is. His face is desperate and angry all at once and directly in her field of vision. “Come on.”

 

“Not _now_.” Sansa hisses and glances around the bustling lobby. A couple of the guys from marketing come waltzing through and throw some friendly waves and questioning looks. Jon looks almost predatory standing above her, but Sansa supposes she can’t expect anything else.

 

After Friday night, she’d pretty much all but ran from the room. He whispered those three little words and Sansa couldn’t get away fast enough. This weekend had been a game of avoidance and longing. Sansa ignored every call and text, then went on to meet up with some old girls from high school to get out. When she’d had enough cocktails Saturday night, she cried to Magaery Tyrell about a man she couldn’t have. Margaery laughed and told her she was too beautiful for any man. But it didn’t make Sansa feel any better when she woke up Sunday morning with a pounding head and aching chest.

 

“You have to talk to me.” His voice is both authoritative and condescending, causing Sansa to sneer.

 

“I don’t _have_ to do anything.” Sansa looks to her glowing desktop screen and thoughtlessly clicks around on her mouse a couple times.

 

“Sansa.” Jon’s breathless and cracking, she can feel the heat of rage radiating off of him.

 

“What! What is that you want from me Jon, hm?” Sansa narrows her eyes at the gleaming gold band on his left ring finger that currently rested on her desk. Jon shrinks away then, sliding his hands off of the wooden surface.

 

“Jon!” Robb comes up to them and slaps Jon warmly on the shoulder, but not before he sees Sansa glance away and Jon jump back on his heels. “What?” Robb looks between them startled, “Is everything alright?”

 

“Yeah, it’s nothing.” Jon sets his jaw and looks at him, “Did you look over those reports I CC’d you on?”

 

Robb’s eyebrows furrow for a quick moment before he decides to take the bait and drop it. Sansa is eternally grateful he doesn’t push and pretends not to listen to every single word coming from Jon’s mouth.

 

“Did you get the memo out about the change of time for Friday night by chance?” Robb pats Sansa’s desk and she looks up at him in disdain, “Yes, Robb. I did my job believe it or not.”

 

Robb withdraws his hand like he’s been bitten, “Christ, San.” He looks between Sansa’s glare and Jon’s poorly masked sullen gaze and folds his arms, “What the hell is going on?”

 

“Nothing is going on! I can just do this job all by myself without you two looking over everything I do.” Sansa returns her attention back to the computer to double-check that she actually did send out the memo.

 

“Jesus, I was just asking.” Robb looks to Jon for back up but when Jon doesn’t step up he lets out a dramatic sigh, “Anyways, did Mom talk to you about the Hardyngs?”

 

That gets Sansa’s attention immediately, and she drops her attitude to get the scoop from Robb. He can clearly see her change in demeanor and looks smug that he was able to get her to pay attention to what he has to say. “Mrs. Hardyng said Harry’s moved back into town after Mom talked about the memorial gala on Friday.” Robb wiggles his eyebrows, but when Sansa doesn’t question him any further, he rolls his eyes, “She’s setting you up.”

 

Sansa about falls off of her chair, “What?”

 

Robb’s beaming that he got the reaction he was looking for, “Yeah, she told me about it yesterday after she saw them at church.”

 

“Harrold Hardyng? Isn’t he like 25?” Jon looks to Robb.

 

“Yeah, but that’s not old. The kids not 40 or anything.” Robb lets out a hearty laugh that isn’t met by either Sansa or Jon. They avoid eye contact and Sansa tries to hide her blush by standing up. “I’ve got to go get some faxes to accounting.”

 

“Aren’t you pissed?” Robb looks at her and tilts his head; “I thought you didn’t like Mom playing matchmaker.”

 

“Honestly, it sounds kind of nice.” Sansa shrugs nonchalantly just for good measure. She doesn’t look past Robb to see what Jon looks like.

 

 

*****

Val is a stunning, voluptuous vision of a woman. She is the type of woman whose beauty demands all and any attention whenever she enters a room. Her golden honey hair shines brightly even under the dim lights of the charity event. A silk emerald dress is painted onto her curves, a look she pulls of carelessly, her curls tumbling all past her shoulders. Val Targaryen is every inch a woman and everything Sansa Stark is not.

 

It’d been a week since Jon had hovered above her and told her that he loved her. A week since she had ran out of his office and began avoiding him at all costs. She had an intern run his copies to him, ignored every call, and shrunk away from the meeting table. It took every ounce of her will power to look away from his heated, begging gazes, not only throughout the work week, but all night long. Jon left her alone after Monday morning and she wondered if that new unspoken rule would carry over to tonight’s festivities.

 

Sansa swallows at her white wine and looks over at her mother shamelessly bragging about her to Mrs. Hardyng. “Oh Sansa, you have got to be the sweetest girl in this whole town.” Mrs. Hardyng grins at Catelyn’s atom bomb of bragging: Dean’s list and little to the president of the most prestigious sorority at Vale College.

 

Harry has kind green eyes and broad shoulders. He is the first guy that Catelyn has attempted to hook her up with that Sansa doesn’t actually mind. All night he’s been nothing but sweet and charming, even pulling her chair out for her before she took her seat next to him and directly across from Jon Targaryen. Sansa pretended not to notice the way Val rested her manicured hand on Jon’s forearm during dinner. Just as Jon ate his meal dutifully to avoid looking at Harry with his arm wrapped leisurely across her bare shoulders.

 

Robb spoke in lowered and loving whispers to his wife Jeyne in between playing host. It was the annual charity dinner and gala in their father’s memory, and this year Stark Reality had spared no expense. The hotel’s ballroom was immaculately decorated with chandeliers boasting Swarovski crystals with low, warm lights illuminating the room, and soft music playing throughout the night. A dance floor was set to the side with a DJ that had already begun to play some dance music. The dinner and speeches had ended without a dry eye in the house. Robb had the power to do that, to paint a picture with his words, and his dedication to their father’s legacy never failed to make Sansa get a bit blubbery. Even Harry wiped at his teary eyes, and he’d never even met her father.

 

“Want to go dance? I’d rather not keep listening to our Moms talk about us like we’re not here.” Harry whispered into her ear. Sansa scrunched her nose and let out a quiet giggle. She had been thinking the exact same thing. “Yeah, sure.” Sansa nods her head and begins to get up with Harry. They adjust their dress clothes and Harry holds his arm out for her to grab, “My lady,” He winks jokingly and it makes Sansa turn crimson. She takes his arm tentatively and follows close to his heels as he leads them over to the dance floor. The DJ is playing Katy Perry and Jill from accounting is busting a move in the middle of the floor. Harry wiggles his eyebrows at her and makes Sansa laugh all over again. Together they dance like goofs, the shopping cart, the sprinkler, and even some classic mashed potato moves. Harry is a pretty good guy to be around and Sansa finds herself actually having a little bit of fun at this event.

 

The bright colored and swirling lights slow their spirals and dim to a light blue as the music slows. Like a Star by Corinne Bailey Rae begins to pour seductively like syrup from the speakers and Sansa looks to Harry in glee, “I used to have this song on my iPod!” Harry chuckles and shrugs, “I’ve never heard it. Want to dance anyway?”

 

Harry’s solid hand is held out in front of her and he teasingly wiggles his fingers when she hesitates for just a moment. But hell, _why not_? After this week she just wants to have a little fun. So she wraps her left arm around his strong shoulders as Harry’s muscled arm snakes around her hips, his left hand grasps hers so that he can lead her in a slow sway to one of her favorite middle school songs.

 

Harry whispers a joke about his mother and squeezes her when she laughs in his ear. Just as her laughter dies down and she grows comfortable in their steps, Sansa peers over his shoulder and directly into the dark gray eyes of Jon Targaryen. It’s the first time she’s really looked at him all week, and for a moment the entire room freezes. Every moving cell in her screams to escape. Her heart slows as her mouth goes dry while she weighs the options of getting lost in his gaze or getting the fuck out of there. She feels like she’s in some kind of Nicholas Sparks’ book from the way Jon is watching her with those wanting eyes.

 

“You look beautiful tonight Sansa Stark.” Harry’s voice sounds distant, like it’s caught in the wind, and Sansa merely nods along to the words that follow. She clears her throat and looks up at him, “Um, sorry. I need to go to the bathroom. I’ll be back.”

 

“Oh, yeah, okay.” Harry is clearly caught off guard with a very visible bruise on his ego, “Was it something I said?”

 

“No!” Sansa’s face softens, they haven’t dropped their arms from each other even though they’ve stopped dancing, “Not at all. You’re a nice guy Harry.”

 

Harry gives her a sad, lopsided smile, “That’s what they tell me.”

 

“I’ll be back,” She finally drops her arms, “Just a sec.”

 

And she takes off as fast as her heels will take her. People break their necks as they watch the young, poised, and elegant Stark girl bolt through the company party. Sansa’s pale pink gown flutters around her as she breaks through the double doors to the carpeted hallway. It’s not like she’s been here before, but she just knows she wants out of that shrinking room. Far from Jon and Val Targaryen.

 

It’s not until she’s in the lobby that she hears the familiar clack of Jon’s dress shoes. A lump rises to her throat, sharp and fierce, she calls out, “Leave me alone!”

 

“Sansa!” Jon’s voice is low and desperate, “Sansa! Stop!”

 

Her Manolo Blahniks from the man chasing her echo across the marble of the lobby floor. Sansa ducks into the first meeting room she sees, its 10:00 but she still holds her breath as she pushes the thick, wooden door open. Thankfully, the room is empty. Just a long elegant table with about 8 chairs circled around it. The light automatically flickered on when she entered the room, and stays on when Jon follows closely behind her.

 

Sansa steps away and pivots hotly on her heel, jutting a finger at him. “Leave me alone.”

 

“I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” Jon’s face is somber as he looks her over, “You look so beautiful tonight.”

 

“Don’t! Don’t! You don’t get to do that!” Sansa feels her emotions getting the best of her, and the wine from dinner isn’t helping, but she is fighting to keep herself together.

 

“Sansa,” Jon sighs and starts to step towards her. Sansa deliberately takes a giant step backwards, she’s almost at the beige colored wall opposite the door they just entered. “No.”  Sansa shakes her head.

 

“What? What is it?” Jon’s distress is causing his voice to almost shake.

 

“I’m not alright! I am not alright, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?” Sansa is still shaking her head, her finger points at him again, “You have a wife and you are my brother’s best friend. You don’t get to chase me down and tell me I look beautiful.” Sansa’s lip begins to quiver, “You don’t get to buy me gifts and ask for copies. You don’t get to tell me you love me and look at me that way. Stop looking at me!”

 

“I’m _not_ looking at you.” Jon throws his hands up is exasperation. “I am not looking at you.”

 

“Yes you are!” Sansa screams, “You are looking at me and _watching_ me. Harry is a nice guy! He works in finance and has a good family name and my mother approves.” Sansa’s chest is heaving and so is Jon’s. His eyes are wild as they watch her shaking her hands at him, “ _Harry isn’t twice my age_. I am trying to be happy. And I can’t breathe; I can’t _breathe_ with you looking at me like that while your arms around your wife. So just stop!” Sansa is shaking along with her voice; her hot tears begin clouding her vision as she tirelessly blinks them away.

 

Jon stares at her, slack jawed and unreadable. A moment passes of just that. The two of them standing off, daring the other to break the silence, to make a move. Who is going to speak first? Sansa’s eyes dart to the door handle after Jon takes a deep sigh, and in a split second she decides to go for it. Her attempt is cut short by being caught in Jon’s hands, his firm grip on either arm.

 

Jon is practically growling when he puts his face right up close to her own, “Do you think I want to look at you? Don’t you think I’d rather be looking at my _wife_? I’m fucking married!” Jon shakes her, “I have a career, responsibilities, and she doesn’t drive me fucking crazy! She doesn’t go to college making me go mad just thinking of all the things that could happen, all the people you are with, all the times I’m not there. Val doesn’t make me sick to my stomach as I watch her with some kid’s paws all over her.” Jon lets her go immediately and Sansa doesn’t move a muscle. She stares up at him and watches his eyes go aflame.

 

“I would give _anything_ not to be watching you.” Jon swallows hard and clenches his hands into fists, pulsing at his sides, and for a moment Sansa fears he is going to hit a wall. Or worse, _leave_.

 

“Don’t.” Sansa whispers and she’s not sure what she means, but Jon does. His hands go immediately to her hair, all done up and pinned for the event, and they shove through the knots and braids. Sansa hisses at the sweet pain, but only moves closer to him still. She's drowning in him, his scent, his touch, the way his lips feel on hers. They haven't touched since he claimed that he loved her, and the urgency is apparent as his hands tug at fiery hair.

 

“Sansa,” His voices feathers against her lips, but she doesn't want to talk. Not now.

 

So she continues kissing him and lets him guide her to the conference table. It's all hands, lips, and panting between them as their frenzied bodies attempt to freeze out their anxious minds. Sansa is sitting on the table with her legs around his waist, the material of her gown sliding down her legs at the push of Jon’s zealous hands. Sansa reaches forward and begins unbuckling his belt in the heat of their kiss, and Jon makes no move to stop her.

 

Jon’s pants drop to a puddle at his feet, he slides his hands under her bare bottom and groans. Sansa hadn't been able to find a pair that didn't show a visible line through her dress and had decided to go commando. It truly wasn't meant to be sexual in any way, but she braces herself for some kind of comment about being a little whore ready to be fucked. Some sort of remark on Harry or what she's been thinking of having him do to her.

 

But Jon doesn't say a word when he slides his hard cock into her. His eyes burn into hers as he licks at his bottom lip. A choked moan passes Sansa’s lips before throwing her head back to give him access to her neck. Jon takes the hint and begins kisses along it softly, slowly, placing sweet and open mouthed blooms across her delicate skin.

 

This is different, still. Just like Friday without the foreplay. But maybe the past week had been foreplay. Sansa stops analyzing when Jon starts picking up his pace, grunting as he begins to work at her with his fingers. “Jon,” She sighs his name in pleasure.

 

“Cum for me Sansa.” Jon kisses her head as she leans forward to rest it on his chest. The scent of cologne and whiskey fill Sansa’s nostrils as she feels herself clench around him.

Jon continues his pace for a couple more strokes and follows suit right after her. Sansa clings to him as he shudders and leans on her for support. They stay there as the moment catches up to them, their shaky breaths syncing up, until Sansa breaks away to look at him.

 

“I'm scared.” Her voice is small and a lot less confident than she intended.

 

Jon places his hand on her cheek to lightly graze it with the pad of his thumb, he lets out a humorless chuckle, “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so so so SO much for all the support on this random ass fic. I love reading your comments and feedback! (PS I totally swiped some dialog from Grey's Anatomy because I'm currently re-watching it and that episode ALWAYS makes me cry ((season 2 finale))


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a pain in the ass for keeping all you lovely people waiting. This chapter is wild. All plot.

# Daddy's Girl

* * *

 

It’s around 8:00 when Sansa finally emerges from her bedroom to get something to eat. Her mother had pleaded with her all evening to come out, but she couldn’t bring herself to get out of bed. It was impossible to feel the need for something like food when all she could think of was how his hands felt when they trailed her body. The way his grunted words sounded hot and husky against her ear while bent over that wooden table. Everything was always wooden tables and desk chairs.

 

Once upon a time, Sansa had a father who colored alongside her and sang her silly songs. A dad who had laughed when she showed him her magic tricks and clapped along as she forced Robb to obey her choreography to different assortments of pop hits. Ned Stark worked long hours and missed birthdays and even Christmas one year. He was not a perfect man, according to her mother’s muffled cries, but Sansa can only remember him as such.

 

She hadn’t really missed her father since she was a child. It was hard to imagine what he’d be doing right now if he hadn’t of keeled over all those years ago. Would he still be awake? Sorting through his e-mails and taking calls into the late hours of the night? Would he have grounded her junior year when he heard about her drinking at Myranda’s house? Her own mother had only spit out a string of sharp curses and a lecture about what she would make other’s think of her.

 

What would Ned Stark think about her dear older brother’s 39 year-old best friend bending her over and fucking her into the desk of the very company he built from scratch?

 

Sansa takes a gulp of air and begins descending down the steps; silently praying her mother had already seen herself to bed. She’d have a fit over Sansa remaining in her pajamas all day and would absolutely lose it when Robb filled her in about skipping out on work.

 

Ned had played in a recreational softball league with a couple other companies for charity and the team t-shirt was one of the few items that Sansa kept of her father’s. She currently wore the oversized, ratty shirt over a pair of pink running shorts. Her hair was unwashed and unruly in a bun wound up at the top of her skull. Catelyn hated when Sansa wore messy buns. ‘ _It’ll ruin your ends,’_ she’d hiss.

 

By the time Sansa steps into the kitchen, it’s too late to turn back. Catelyn stands hunched over by the counter as she speaks to Jon. “Robb has- Oh. Sansa.” Jon’s lips are parted and her mother spins rapidly to get a glimpse of her daughter. “Oh honey. Nice to see you out and about.” Catelyn straightens her posture and beckons her daughter to walk deeper in the lion’s den. Sansa steels herself against the doorframe, “Are there any leftovers?”

 

“Of course,” Catelyn scrambles and moves past Jon to yank open the refrigerator. Sansa forces herself to ignore Jon’s longing gaze, but she’s thankful for his silence. She wonders if he’s told her mother about her absence at work. "Why is your hair all piled up like that? You know how awful that is for your ends."

 

Sansa fights the urge to snort and simply rolls her eyes the moment her mother turns her back.

 

“Do you want me to make you a doctor’s appointment?” Catelyn pulls a bowl of chicken soup from the fridge and moves to grab a pot to reheat it in.

 

“A doctor’s appointment?” Sansa asks, bewildered at her mother’s look of worry.

 

“Yes. It is Monday, dear. Didn't know if you knew that since you haven't left your room all day.” Catelyn shuffles over to the oven and looks at her daughter, "Robb called me to ask about you since you weren't answering your cell phone. You had us worried. Jon even came to check on you." She nods at the man she’d been ignoring. Sansa looks over at him having the nerve to stare at her and quickly flits her eyes back to her scurrying mother.

 

“I’m alright. I just needed some rest. The soup will do me some good.” Sansa watches as Catelyn ignites the stove and slaps the pot atop the flame.

 

“Are you sure—I could always call Doctor-“

 

“I’m fine mother. I’m not a kid anymore, I can make my own doctor’s appointments when I need them.” Sansa huffs.

 

“You will always be my baby though, “ Her mother hums affectionately. She puts a hand on her hip and looks to Jon, “She’ll be turning 19 next month. When did my little girl get all grown up?”

 

“I couldn’t begin to tell you, Miss Stark.” Jon’s eyes don’t meet Catelyn’s gaze.

 

*****

 

 

There’s a soft click of the break room door closing. It’s wrong and it’s desperate but Sansa hasn’t so much as looked him in the eye the past two days and she knew it was only a matter of time before he tracked her down and cornered her. It’s incredible and embarrassing how she melts from the heat of his gaze alone and especially now as she purposefully takes an extraordinarily long time selecting her flavor of coffee at the machine.

 

“Sansa.” Her name sounds like strangled song from his lips.

 

Every visceral part of her goes completely still and then she clicks the hazelnut shot. The machine roars to life but even the sound of it doesn’t drown out Jon’s heavy steps. He’s close, too close, and she feels herself begin to fold. All she can smell is his cologne despite the aroma of the fresh coffee brewing.

 

“Sansa.” Jon repeats himself and she isn’t sure he meant to do so.

 

“What is it?” Sansa deadpans and takes her fresh mug to put in some sweeteners.

 

“I want to talk to you.” Jon’s voice is unrecognizable and it’s enough to make her finally look into his dark eyes.

 

“You’ve been ignoring me.” There’s no tease in his tone, no playfulness, no hint at flirting. He sounds hurt and confused and it enrages Sansa all the more while she empties a packet of sugar into her coffee.

 

“I’ve been ill and I’ve been busy.” She stirs slowly.

 

Jon scratches at his beard and emits an exhausted sigh. “Sansa.”

 

“What.” She’s curt and just as tired as he is.

 

Jon places his hands on his hips and tilts his head, “You can’t say the things we said Saturday and then completely shut me out.”

 

“I’m not the one who is married.” Sansa spits as she turns back to her steaming drink.

 

“You know what Val and I are.” Jon drops his arms and places a hand on her forearm. She should probably pull away from him, but it’s impossible when all she has been able to think about is how good it’d be to have his hands on her once more.

 

“Married.” Sansa looks up at him through her lashes, “I don’t think what you said falls under your little game of don’t ask, don’t tell.”

 

She says the words just to watch him flinch, but gets so satisfaction as he does so. Jon looks unbelievably pained and vulnerable, two things she'd never seen a man willingly appear before her, let alone Jon. The same facial expressions flashed across his face as when he watched her leave the meeting room to return back to the charity event Saturday night.

 

“Then tell me to stop. Tell me you don’t want this and that’ll be that.” Jon’s nostrils flare and his hard eyes go wide, “Say it and it’s over.”

 

Sansa parts her lips in disbelief but can’t bring herself to say a word. Jon steps forward and tentatively clasps her shoulders with both hands and gives a gentle squeeze, “Tell me you don’t love me.”

 

A painful lump rises in her throat as she tries to filter through her winding thoughts. How should she feel? His palms are wide and warm on her and his grey eyes searching for something, anything in her, a hint at what she may be thinking. “I—I can’t.” Sansa watches his face dissolve completely and her knees wobble like Jell-O and he catches her unsteadiness with his lips on hers. It’s gruff and desperate and oh, so sweet. Everything she has been missing and wanting and still so very wrong.

 

“What the FUCK.” A familiar voice roars from the entryway. They snap apart like electric shocks, sudden, sharp, and distant. Jon clears his throat as Sansa feels her chest begin to rise and fall at the speed of a hummingbird’s. Ice courses through her veins as the panic catches up with the reality of the situation. 

 

Robb stands with his face distorted in rage as his eyes flit between Jon and his sister in disbelief. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Are you _fucking kidding me_?”

 

“Robb.” Sansa's voice is choked and distant to her own ears and she regrets speaking as soon as he looks to her with overwhelmingly betrayed eyes. She clutches at her chest while Robb clenches his fists at his sides. “Get out.”

 

“Wh—what?” Sansa stutters as she looks between her older brother and Jon.

 

“Get _out_!” Robb practically snarls at her. Sansa wobbles on her feet like a newborn calf uncertain of where to step or where to go. “No.” Jon finally speaks and his single word is enough to make Robb slam the door shut in response. “You _mother fucker_.” Robb starts to charge forward with his finger raised and Jon meets him half way in the middle of the break room amongst the tables.

 

“It hasn’t been anything serious, not until…” Jon cuts himself off in time to steel himself for Robb’s shove.

 

“She’s my little sister! My baby sister! She’s _eighteen_ for Christ sake!” Robb shouts loud enough for the entire world to hear. His face a bright cherry red as he seethes with a fiery anger that Sansa has never witnessed. Jon stands patiently and looks as though he’s ready to shove Robb to the ground just to keep him quiet. There’s not a doubt in Sansa’s mind that the office hadn’t heard what he just screamed.

 

"I never meant for it to get this far." Jon tries to explain himself in a hushed tone but Robb isn't hearing any of it. He visibly shakes from his rage and Sansa becomes frightened at the sight of him. "How far is this far?"

 

Jon swallows once more and Robb rakes his hands through his scalp and pulls violently at his own hair. "How fucking far?!"

 

"Robb." Jon raises his arms like he's calming a crazed horse which only seems to achieve the opposite. 

 

"You fucked her?" Robb roars.

 

Jon doesn't get a chance to answer before Robb's fist makes a sickening crack against his square jaw. Sansa screeches as he falters in his footing, but he remains standing as Robb shakes out his fist. 

 

“How could you?” Robb’s face shifts after a few quiet moments. Sansa remains beside the coffee machine and behind Jon, but she can only imagine the way he must look as he watches his best friend’s shoulders slouch in hurtful defeat. Sansa hasn’t seen her brother not standing tall and brave since…ever. All she’s ever known is her kind, patient, and strong older brother who made her laugh when he had the time to spare from all his work.

 

The weight of the world rested heavily on her poor brother’s shoulders. Care for your mother, watch over your sister, keep the company afloat, and be successful in every aspect. Robb had to stand still the moment their father's heart stopped beating. 

 

“How long?” Robb searches Jon’s face.

 

“About a year.” Jon visibly stiffens and Sansa prepares herself to watch her brother launch another attack. To hear a slur of curses and names or to watch him tumble Jon to the floor.

 

But it’s only silence. Long reaches of painful quiet as they challenge one another. On what, Sansa isn’t sure, but her tears stream down her cheeks in hot trails as they stare one another down.

 

Robb finally looks at her past Jon’s shoulder, an unreadable look on his face, “Get out.”

 

“She doesn’t—“

 

“You don’t tell her what to do.” Robb shouts again.

 

_If only you knew, Robb._

Sansa helplessly gathers up her useless, cold coffee and stumbles as she scampers around the two men and out of the door in such a hurry she almost trips over herself. When she is far and safe at her reception desk is when she finally allows herself to assess the damage.

 

It was silence.

 

No one lingered the halls or stared after her. There wasn’t even anyone down the hallway lurking by the doorway of the break room listening in, as she had so feared. It was almost as if it was an ordinary day at work. When really it was anything but.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I CANNOT THANK YOU ENOUGH FOR ALL THE LOVE. seriously. It means so so so so so so much to mean. As for this chapter: My poor bb San :'(


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tip of the iceburg.

 

# Daddy's Girl

* * *

 

Ned Stark's last day on Earth had been exceptionally ordinary. Sansa had eaten her oatmeal reverently across from her father while he sipped on coffee and scanned the newspaper. She was having her kindergarten Veteran's Day program that day and had gotten up a little earlier than usual so that her mother could curl her hair. 

 

Sansa had been clamoring into her mother's candy apple red SUV when she'd last laid eyes on him. Her dad stood on the front porch in his black dress pants with a thin Hanes undershirt tucked in, his weathered hand rested on his hip, while he shouted at her mother about some tie. It'd irritated her beyond belief. 

 

"Sing loud for me baby girl, I'll see you tonight!" He'd yelled after her as she shut the door. Sansa pretended she hadn't heard and impatiently waited for her mother to finally get her to school. 

 

*

 

Robb was seething from across the kitchen table. It'd been a long, long time since they both had sat down at it together. His shoulders were as squared as his jaw, proud even in his anger. Nothing like the slouched defeated boy she saw in the break room earlier today. 

 

"I have half the mind to tell Mom." Fire blazes behind his blue eyes. 

 

It's a sad fact that neither her or her older brother have a lick of their father’s looks to them. Both had matching auburn locks with bright blue eyes that their mother had gifted them. Sansa looks down at her folded hands resting on the table and then back to her brother. 

 

"I don't know what to say to you." Robb looks away and stares at whatever painting is on display behind her head. 

 

"I'm not a child." Her claim is weak and her voice even weaker. 

 

Robb flinches at her words, "Yes, you are."

 

"I'm not some damsel you can lock in a tower and protect forever." Sansa watches him in case he decides to do anything irrational. Sansa hasn't ever actually gotten into a physical fight with her brother and she wasn't planning on starting to now. 

 

"I just want to make sure you're safe. You're a smart girl Sansa, but this was not a smart move." Robb is surprisingly empathetic and it causes resentment and anger to course through her system like a twisted poison. 

 

"I love him." Sansa watches his eyes go wide and nostrils flare. 

 

"No, you don't." Robb tries his best to hide his disgust and anger, but Sansa sees through his thinly veiled façade. 

 

"He loves me." 

 

Robb jumps up from his seat, knocking it behind him, his hands gripping to the edge of the table. Her heart pounds against her chest at the whiteness of his knuckles, but she can't back down now. "Sansa." It comes out like a snarling warning, but she takes it as a challenge. 

 

"I'm eighteen almost nineteen and I can fuck whoever I want!" Sansa screams at him. 

 

Robb lets out an animalistic yell, his face red while the veins of his neck swell and pop. She refuses to budge as his anger blossoms further. Robb gives the table a violent shove. One of their mother's vases topples to the freshly polished hardwood floors. Shards from the crystal clatter against the surface while the water pools beside her right foot. 

 

"You are a child Sansa. You are a fucking kid that I let some asshole have access to. He abused his power, he-"

 

"What!" Sansa cuts him off in the middle of his enraged psychobabble, "What are you even talking about?"

 

"He's a grown man Sansa!" Robb slams his hands on the table, "A fucking married, grown ass man!" 

 

"So what!" Sansa screeches, "So what! Like you don't know Val is fucking half the tennis instructors at the-"

 

Robb raises his hand in a move to silence her, "What goes on in their relationship is none of your fucking concern. It's gossip, its false gossip that people whisper about because Jon is a successful man and Val is a beautiful woman."

 

"You're so stupid!" Sansa wraps her arms around herself, "You think you know everything, when really you don't know anything at all!" 

 

"What is it you're expecting out of this, hm?" Robb's face isn't even recognizable beneath the layers of anger and fear. "He'll leave his wife so the two of you can start a perfect life together? Is that your idea? Is that the pretty picture he painted for you?” Robb walks around the large circle of table to stand above her. 

 

"It’s not like that." Sansa shakes her head and looks up at her brother.

 

"Don't say anything else. Just stop." Robb is hovering above her and it takes everything in her to not completely break down into a pile of tears. It’s as if she’s swallowed a sword on fire. It sears her insides and leaves her throat raw and burning as she looks up to her big brother.

 

He’s old.

 

Robb has wrinkles and lines she had never really even thought of noticing. Gray hairs are peppered into his beard and all throughout his auburn curls. Their matching red heads aren’t so alike anymore. She supposes she’s old to him too now. The way his eyes glower at her like he doesn’t even recognize her anymore makes her realize that all Robb has ever seen her as is some kid pulling at his pant leg and dying for any and all attention he’d give her.

 

“You are no longer employed at Stark industries. You’ll get a very generous severance package and tell Mom you quit to move back to school.” Robb’s shoulders started slouching, “You’re not to talk to him again, got it?”

 

“You’re not my Dad.” Sansa helplessly mutters at his towering frame.

 

“I’m not.” Robb shakes his head and for a split second Sansa thinks she might make him cry, but his steely resolve remains true, “Neither is _he_.”

 

The back door swings open as their Mom pushes through with an armful of shopping bags, “Oh, look who it is!” Catelyn beams as she looks between her two children, “Do you guys—“ She cuts herself off when she notes the look on Sansa’s face and the flowers scattered about her floor.

 

“What on Earth?” Catelyn shoves her bags off onto the kitchen counter and looks at them again. But the moment is gone with no residual evidence of what Catelyn _knows_ she saw on her little girl’s face. “What happened? Are you alright?”

 

“She’s fine. Just stressed about school. I accidentally knocked the vase over when I bumped into the table.” Robb runs an exhausted hand through his hair and crosses the room to greet her with a hurried kiss on the cheek. “I’ve got to get going though.”

 

“Don’t you want to stay for dinner? I’m making salmon from a recipe that I saw on the Today show this morning.” Catelyn tries and fails to mask the desperation in her voice.

 

“Maybe next week, sorry Mom.” Robb is already halfway out the door when he throws up his hand as a farewell. Leaving Sansa alone with her mother still trying to piece together something she’d never want to know or could even begin to imagine. “What’s going on with school? I thought you had all your classes lined up for fall?”

 

Sansa falls back against the wooden kitchen seat and sighs, “Yes. School is fine its just small stuff. Sorority drama.” She hopes it’s a specific enough for her mother to let go, but Catelyn still seems uneasy. Robb and her had long ago perfected the art of hiding things from their clueless mother who would always prefer to turn the other cheek.

 

“It’ll blow over.” Sansa tried to mask her wavering voice by looking down at her freshly painted nails.

 

Catelyn’s head slowly tilts while a soft, sad smile forms at her lips, “Your father used to always say that when things were really bad.”

 

Sansa’s mouth gapes just a tad before standing abruptly and grabbing her phone from the table, “Leave it, Mom.” She stomps past her mother, hard enough to make the china plates rattle, and crosses through the house as quickly as possible. When she finds the safety of her room she is both thankful and disappointed her mother didn’t chase after her.

 

*

 

Val has this nauseating vanilla spice lotion she lathers herself in before bed every night. Jon absolutely despises the scent but can’t find it in himself to tell his own wife something as small as her lotion gives him a headache before bed. Although tonight, he can’t tell his wife much of anything after his day at work. Val had come home from her trip to the nail salon to find her husband sitting on the couch in the middle of a workday.

 

The only time that had ever happened before was when Ned Stark had passed, so she had silently assumed the worst. Val hugged him and didn’t let it get to her how loose his grip had been around her. After making him a cup of tea she knew he wouldn’t drink, she sat across from him on a sofa she had never really actually used. It was quite comfy too, she noted as she watched her husband tug at his dress shirtsleeves.

 

Jon knew he should throw her a bone, but it was impossible to really think about anything, let alone entertaining his half interested wife in something she’d really not give a shit about. Val went on to calmly tell him about her day, the ladies at the salon, about whether or not she should go in for another round of blonde highlights. He stared at her mouth and thought about the first night he’d kissed those plump lips and how he’d called Robb the next day to tell him he’d met the love of his life.

 

How did they get here?

 

Jon couldn’t remember the last time the two of them had even sat in this fucking room together.

 

After a couple beats of silence Val excused herself to go meet up with the girls for book club. He knew she was waiting for him to stop her, to spill, to let her in. He just…couldn’t.

 

Now, as she crawled in bed next to him, slathered in her horrendous lotion, there wasn’t a real escape. So his eyes stayed trained on their bedroom ceiling until she turned her bedside lamp off. The darkness offered no comfort, but he immediately shut his eyes to allude to the fact that he still wasn’t talking.

 

“What’s the matter J?” Val’s old nickname for him was almost enough to make him fall into her arms right then and there. But it was dark, his eyes were shut, and she smelled too much like a too sweet cupcake.

 

“Nothing, hard day at work is all.” An understatement for the history books.

 

“Is everything alright?” The sound of Val’s highlighted head sliding against her 1000 thread count pillowcase made him feel dizzy. She was afraid he was losing his job, afraid of the loss of their country club membership, scared of what people would say. Val didn’t care if it was stressful or complicated; she wanted to know she was provided for.

 

“Yeah, it’s all fine.” Jon swallowed.

 

“It doesn’t sound fine.” Val never pried. Jon’s eyes popped open at the surprise and he finally looked into her deep blue eyes and instantly felt like a piece of shit for everything.

 

Val once said she didn’t care if they lived in a trailer, as long as she had him, she’d be happy.

 

That was before the American Express black card came in the mail.

 

Jon really had to think to remember the last time he looked at Val and felt complete, or felt anything really. She was a pleasant person and a kind wife. Every holiday she gave the best, most thoughtful presents and she always watched out for his soy allergy. Whenever a Marvel movie was coming out she’d always buy them tickets to opening nights and pre-order every blu-ray.

 

Long ago, Val used to paint her own nails and sing in the shower. She’d make him breakfast before he’d go to work for his best friend’s Dad and then he’d come home so they could cook dinner together. They’d have date nights where they’d take turns picking out what they would do and they’d regularly hang out with one another’s friends. Somewhere along the way, it all got lost. Buried beneath business trips, brunch dates with the ladies, and extramarital affairs.

 

No one is good at losing someone, but Jon and Val were even worse. They clung to each other out of habit, comfort, and fear. It was easy to stay together and pretend everything was fine when in fact Val fucked every tennis coach or personal trainer she ever had.

 

Jon fucked his best friend’s 18 year old sister and told himself it was all just for fun.

 

He looked into Val’s blue eyes and thought of how Sansa would look before going to sleep. Did she wear PJs or just a big t-shirt? Did she fall asleep to television or read a little before finally drifting off?

 

“You can talk to me,” Val’s voice sounded distant and unsure. Like she was either afraid of what he’d say or was scared to get into it in the first place.

 

“I know.” Jon squeezed his eyes shut and scrunched his nose, “Your lotion…it’s a little strong.”

 

“Oh.” Val sat up slowly and grabbed the expensive bottle, “Weren’t you the one who bought it for me for Christmas?”

 

Jon peeked at the white and gold bottle and fought the urge to smack it right out of her hands. They both knew he’d gotten her a BMW she never drove and that Jon would never think to buy her something as silly and thoughtless as lotion. One of her fuck buddies must’ve thought it necessary to treat her and Jon traded in the unused car to get a brand new one for Sansa. Val never said a thing about it.

 

_Don’t ask, don’t tell._

 

“No.” Jon rolled over.

 

“Oh well, sorry.” Val was bitter as she tossed the bottle to the floor. She settled back into their bed and just when Jon thought it was finally over, he heard her clear her throat. “How’s Sansa doing?”

 

Jon didn’t answer, he didn’t have to. Val fell fast asleep and Jon tried to list reasons why he loved his wife.

 

  1. She’s a good actor.



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a lot of plot these past two chapters. I'll put some smut in next time, promise ;)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SARAH, I OWE YOU FOREVER.
> 
> A long time coming.

 

A soft shake of Sansa’s mattress rouses her from another dreamless night. It’s midmorning, she can tell that much. The moments between sleep and consciousness are probably the hardest, the most painful and confusing, It’s as if every part of her is twisted and sucked from her much too soft heart every time she is faced with the reality of her life. When the sleep is blinked back from her eyes and it sinks in once more that yes this, this right here, is real.

 

“Sansa, dear, wake up.” Another soft shake is enough to annoy her into making eye contact with her hovering mother. Catelyn is tight lipped and grim when she peers down at her, “Get up. It’s 11:00 and too late for you to still be sleeping.”

 

“It’s summer.” Sansa moves to roll her much too heavy limbs further from the edge of her mattress but her mother’s vice grip digs into her shoulder.

 

“You haven’t been to work all week and Robb isn’t stopping by for dinner tonight.”

 

_There it is._

 

Days of silence, sleep, and shuffling the halls of the house had finally conjured up enough stink for her mother to stick her nose in. That or Robb spilt the beans.

 

Was it already Friday? 

 

Mother and Robb and their stupid fucking Friday night dinners. How many times had Sansa missed out on hanging with friends or showed up too late to her high school football games just to shuffle her food around her plate and feign interest in Robb’s work week and her mother’s social calendar?

 

In response Sansa scrunched up a sour face and made sure to put enough ice into the glare she was shooting Catelyn.

 

“What on earth is going on between the two of you?” Catelyn’s grip is fiercer somehow, “You haven’t fought a day since you were born.”

 

Sansa yanks her arm from her mother and watches the sadness spread across her concerned features, “I don’t care about Robb and I don’t care about dinner.”

 

“Sansa Stark.” It’s meant to come off as a warning but hangs meekly off Catelyn’s tongue. Perhaps Sansa should feel guilty about the tone she took against her own Mother, and on any other day she would, but she meant what she said and she’d do just about anything to get her to leave her room. 

 

“Go to his house and have dinner if you want to see him so badly.” Sansa throws the suggestion at Catelyn like a sack of shit on fire. Catelyn shifts her weight from leaning against her daughter’s mattress to standing straight above her.

 

“Call him.” Catelyn’s jaw is set, “Go talk to your brother and make it right. Lamees Alhassar says that rage can be a very dangerous thing to harbor in one’s heart.”

 

Sansa makes another face at her mom and shakes her head, “I don’t need some Hallmark quote to inspire me to talk to my brother. I don’t need to talk to him at all.”

 

“Is it a boy?” Catelyn’s eyes seem tentative and cautious but she’s not wrong and Sansa prays her mother didn’t notice the way the question made color rise to her cheeks. It’s unnerving how well she can always put a finger on Sansa’s problems. “No Mom. Not everything is about boys.”

 

Catelyn seems unconvinced but it’s enough to make her finally, _finally_ leave Sansa’s room.

 

*

 

 

Smoke billows out from the end of Jon’s lit cigarette. It rests between his index and middle fingers of his right hand while his left fidgets with the knots in his hair. It's been a week of uneasiness and isolation, something that catapults Jon back into childhood. This isn't where he was supposed to be at this age. Back when this tension began to settle into his bones, a teenage Jon had promised himself that it would be over. One day he would sit on a porch with his wife and watch his children play in their expansive yard. Even in his wildest imagination all he could seem to conjure up were images drawn from Robb Stark’s very own childhood.

 

“Hey.” Val’s voice is thick with sleep as she sinks down to sit beside him. Warmth radiates from her hand as she reaches over for his cigarette. He expects her to snuff it out and put the butt to the side to eventually throw away, but instead he’s shocked to see her take a deep inhale. Kale eating, yoga practicing, and tea drinking Val smoking a Marlboro takes him back to their college days.

 

“Don't act so surprised.” Val raises an eyebrow at his expression, “You're the one having an affair with Robb’s little sister.” She blows out another cloud of smoke and carefully places her polished thumbnail between her teeth.

 

Jon silently looks back to their dewy front lawn in the haze of morning light. Under any other circumstance, this could've been considered romantic.

 

“Robb called me last night.” Val flicks the ashes and watches them scatter across their porch steps. He's breathless as he stares after her and anxiously waits for her to continue. Disappointingly, she makes no indication to add onto her previous statement and instead turns to look at him with an almost childlike gaze.

 

Her blonde hair is piled atop her head in an impressive bun and her glasses frame her bright blue eyes in a way he hadn't really paid any attention to. Val is wearing an old high school track shirt and has a blanket wrapped loosely around her. She's a vision of the girl he fell for all those years ago. When money was a distant and seemingly impossible goal and love would conquer all.

 

He'd failed. Failed her as a husband and friend. It hits him hard in the chest like a punch to the gut. The pain sinks and twists his insides and he feels it tug at tear ducts. It's been a long week, but he has yet to get emotional about anything.

 

Val sighs and brushes back her bangs with her empty hand, “I don't know how to feel about all of this.”

 

“Me neither.” Jon answers quickly and truthfully.

 

Val had taken the news like he'd just told her he was settling a big deal with the company. There was nothing Val did better than denial, and she’s proved it as much for two days. Any time he broached the subject she tactfully shot it down and continued a mundane conversation about weather or curtain fabrics.

 

“Robb’s pissed.” Val’s eyes flickered back to their lawn just as the sprinklers sputtered to a start.

 

“I’m sure.” Jon stared down at his hands and tried not to let the image of his best friend’s broken and betrayed face leak back into the forefront of his mind.

 

“So what next?” Val’s eyes are wickedly teasing at her age old saying. It was always full speed ahead in Val’s world, never a moment to reflect or mourn. It was remarkable at one time and Jon had envied her for what he had originally believed to be strength. The reason for her way of thinking was from her scars of childhood. Similar enough to Jon’s but her coping mechanism was quite opposite of his wallowing technique he'd perfected along the way.

 

“I wish I knew the answer to that.” Jon waits for her to react but she only stays silent. The blanket resting loosely on her arms is tugged up over her shoulders and close to her ears, her delicate arms clutching to herself.

 

“I don't know why you stayed.” Val’s voice is shaky from the confrontation, but Jon knows exactly what she means.

 

“You are my wife. I thought it was something that just…came with it.” Jon swallows, “I was never home.”

 

“When did we get so fucked?”

 

Jon chuckles darkly and reached out for the smoking cigarette sitting idly in her grasp. Their fingers touch and Jon feels nothing. He hasn't felt anything in a long, long time.

 

“I have no right to be angry.” Val lets him take it back with no complaint, “But it sucks.”

 

“I wish I had something better to say than I'm sorry.” Jon takes a long drag and blows the smoke out at the sprinklers, “I am sorry, Val. I am.”

 

“It's exactly what you said when I first fucked Jory.” Jon’s eyes shut at her language, “It’s not love, only sex. But with Sansa…”

 

They meet each other's eyes somberly. Val looks upset about it for the first time since he told her everything. It sucks that she's hurting and even more so that he's the one who caused it. “You're not a bad husband.” Val squeezes the blanket around herself closer still, “A bad friend maybe, but you've always made me happy. Even agreeing to let me pursue… extracurriculars.”

 

Jon huffs in agreement, “All I did was grow a bank account and play poker with your friends husbands. I don't think that counts as being a husband.”

 

“Maybe not.” Val awkwardly leans her head against the porch’s bannister, “But it’s a two way street. We stopped trying long before you took up fucking a child.”

 

Jon snuffs what's left of the Marlboro on the edge of the step and chucks the butt into the front flower bed. “She'll be nineteen in two months.”

 

“You don't have to defend yourself. I didn't say it was illegal.” Val fidgets beside him, “If I wanted you to stay, would you?”

 

Jon jerks in her direction, taken aback by her question, and searches for an answer.

 

Perhaps his silence was his answer because Val takes it as such and begins to chew on her lip, “I wouldn't ask you to.”

 

“I'm sorry.” Jon whispers lamely.

 

“Don't be.” Val wiggles her toes before her. The sun is beginning to heat up and the steps are warm against their limbs. “I thought maybe work had started to look up. Or maybe you'd actually met someone.” A hand rests on top of her bun momentarily before she tentatively rests it on his shoulder. It's the first time she's touched him all week. Maybe longer, now that he thinks of it.

 

“You're happy. She makes you happy.” Val squeezes and drops her grip as soon as she'd given it.

 

Jon raises his eyebrows and weighs her explanation. She wasn't wrong but he was surprised she'd even noticed. It was pathetic how the two of them had gone from being the perfect yin and yang marriage to just two separate humans cohabitating and attending parties together.

 

“Are you happy?” Jon asks earnestly.

 

Val scrunches her nose slightly and gives him a hushed laugh, “For a woman whose husband is in love with someone else, I'd say yes. I'm pretty happy.”

 

They sit beside each other in still silence as Jon struggles with words.

 

“We haven't been happy for a while, it's no secret.” Val pulls her knees to her chest and smiles sadly, “If you asked me to stay, I’d say no.”

 

Jon nods slowly and runs his hand over his jawline, “Is this headed where I think it is?”

 

Val laughs and wipes at her wet eyes, “I think so, Jon Targaryen.”

 

“Val Targaryen.” Jon says it just to say it.

 

Later she forwards him the number of the divorce lawyer she's contacted.

 

*

 

“ _Call me when you see this_.”  Robb’s message read from three hours ago.

 

Sansa drew a shaky breath and set her phone down beside her on the couch. Luckily her mother had taken to giving her the cold shoulder due to Robb’s absence from dinner last night. She also didn't take too kindly to Sansa shuffling her Waldorf salad around and drinking two glasses of wine.

 

Catelyn called her stubborn and rude, which is her polished version of calling Sansa a little bitch. Perhaps Sansa was a bitch, but she wasn't going to listen to her mother drone on about how much she wished Robb were there and how worried she was about him. Sansa had half the mind to tell her about riding Jon’s cock until she screamed just so he'd close his hand around her throat. That'd give her mother something to worry about.

 

Out of habit she glances down at the phone one more time, just to stare at her brother's words. Then her eyes look to the time: 12:38 AM. Sunday.

 

Sansa planned on telling Catelyn about heading back to school early and moving there until finishing up. Then she'd go wherever the wind took her. Preferably as far as possible. Maybe she could even get a gig in the Dornish sunshine.

 

An abrupt ring ripped through her reality tv show. A number she knew all too well displayed across her cell phone screen.

 

“Hello?” She answered on the third ring and prayed silently that she didn't sound as desperate as she felt.

 

“Hey.” Jon’s voice was velvet, “What're you up to?”

 

Sansa reached over to mute her episode of Real Housewives and cleared her throat, “Nothing, just reading up on stuff for school.”

 

“Oh?” Jon saw right through her. She let out a strangled giggle that she wanted to kick herself for and answered quickly in a half attempt to cover up the embarrassing noise, “Okay, okay, it’s the Real Housewives of the O.C.”

 

His laugh was soft and warm just like her childhood blanket. “What class is that for?”

 

“Environmental studies.” Sansa quipped. They shared another quick laugh that ended all too soon. Heavy silence weighed between them and Sansa replayed him telling her that he loved her for about the millionth time since she’d last seen him.

 

“Are you going to church tomorrow?” Jon broke the silence with his obvious question.

 

“You already know the answer to that.” Sansa rolled her eyes.

 

“It's getting late.”

 

“You're the one who called me.” Sansa means for it to come out lighter than it does.

 

“You're right. Sorry.” Jon doesn't say goodbye but she knows that's what he means. The thought causes terror to seep into her bloodstream, running cold and quick through her system. Sansa holds her breath and waits for him to hang up. “Is…is your mom up?”

 

Sansa lays her head back onto the couch in relief, “No.”

 

“I'll be over in ten.” Jon pauses for a moment, “If you want.”

 

“I do.” Sansa bites her lip and listens to the brewing silence from his end. It's a delicate conversation to have over the phone and an even more dangerous game. A lump rises in her throat when he takes a giant breath, “See you then.” The line goes dead and so does her heartbeat.

 

It's been five days since she's last seen him and she knows this is it. Whatever is said tonight will seal their fate. A rush of paranoia causes her to hop to her feet, because if Jon’s going to dump her, she at least wants to make him think twice about it. It's easier to dump a frumpy girl wearing sweatpants and an oversized hole infested t-shirt than a woman in a sensual nightie with her hair brushed to perfection.

 

Sansa sprints up to her room to ready herself in a hurry. The brush rips through her knotted mangled mane and leaves a limp, greasy mop instead. Tears prick her eyes in frustration, but she hasn't the time for a meltdown. So instead she loosely braids it to the side and slips on her baby pink teddy that she'd purchased a month ago. A couple of swipes of face powder and some mascara and maybe he’d think twice. Or at least she hoped.

 

Time passes like molasses on a winter morning. Sansa tries her hardest to remain collected, but she falls apart at the seams when she hears footsteps on the stairs. Panic causes her to flip over and lay on her back to stare up at the ceiling. She regrets it as soon as she does and kicks herself for not posing when her door cracks open. For a moment she's afraid it's her mother, but she sees his familiar silhouette and knows it could be no one else.

 

“Hey,” his gravelly voice slices through the dark silence of her room.

 

“Hi.” It comes out as a squeak instead of the sexual purr she'd been planning on, but Jon doesn't seem to really notice. The mattress springs beneath her give at his weight beside her and suddenly she's self conscious at her wardrobe choice. Sansa wraps her arms carefully around her stomach and she rolls her head to the side to look at him.

 

Jon's sitting straight up while he gazes around her room. “Justin Bieber?” A cheesy poster from her 8th grade year hangs on the back of her bedroom door and Sansa cringes at the embarrassment. So far, not so good. Jon chuckles and let's out a deep sigh, “Isn't that kid in jail?”

 

“No.” Sansa swallows her defensive spiel about her childhood crush and forces herself to not look away. “How's your week been?”

 

“Not great.” Jon pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment before finally looking over at her. Even in the darkness she can tell he's stunned by her lingerie. It should make her feel more confident, but instead makes her feel like shrinking into herself, “I could say the same.” She whispers in return.

 

A breath catches at the back of her throat when she feels Jon’s featherlight touch against her shoulder. He moves his fingertips tantalizingly slow across her collarbone and just above the swell of her breasts. “You look so beautiful.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but he moves his hand away before she even thinks to respond.

 

Jon inhales deeply and then lays back onto her bed to stare up at her ceiling.

 

“Have you spoken to your brother?” Jon’s voice is weird and the spell is completely broken. The warmth that spread from his touch runs cold at the mention of reality. It's a slap in the face that's well deserved.

 

“No.” She bites her lip when she thinks about the unanswered text message. “Have you?”

 

Jon scoffs, “No. I’m not...” His statement trails off into a silence saturated in sadness.

 

“You are.” Sansa reassures him, because it has to be true. Robb loves Jon like a brother. But maybe that makes him hate him all the more. The real question she wants to ask is about Val. It's hard to bring her up in a natural way, seeing as they've never really talked about her much. Only when Jon mentions small things or when he first explained his marriage.

 

“Val called a divorce lawyer.” Jon answers her thoughts and Sansa jerks her head in response.

 

“What?” Of all the things she expected him to say that was the last thing on her mind.

 

“Yeah.” Jon scratches at his jaw, “There's that.”

 

“Are you moving out? What is she taking?” Sansa’s own parents had obviously never split, but she'd been around long enough to know what happens when a stay at home trophy wife divorces her pocketbook.

 

“Not sure.” Jon sounds dejected and distant. “It's not really going to be like that.”

 

Sansa furrows her eyebrows and sits down on her bed, “Then what will it be like?”

 

“Not sure, Sansa. I've never been divorced before.” It's bitter and harsh. She draws a gasp at his tone and looks away in preparation for tears.

 

“Hey, sorry, I didn't mean for it to…I didn't mean to sound like such a dick.” Jon reaches out to place his hand over hers. “It's not your fault.”

 

Sansa gives him a pointed look that she's sure he can feel more than actually see. “Yeah, okay.”

 

“I mean it,” His large hand swallows her own small one in a tight squeeze, “I'm the one who cheated on my wife.”

 

“She's the one who started it.” It’s childish to her own ears but nonetheless true. Sansa lays on her back to stare up at her ceiling, just to avoid his hot gaze momentarily. Her head is swimming with delight and fear.

 

Jon sighs while removing his hand and she immediately aches for the warmth of it. “Sansa.” It comes as a warning.

 

“What?” Sansa props herself up on her elbows and juts her chest forward to give him a good view, “Val fucks every gym instructor with a dick. I even heard that she-“

 

“Shut up.” Jon barks, his shoulders tense and chest heaving, “Please. Just stop.”

 

“Does it hurt?” Sansa bites back, “Did you use me to get back at your precious Val? The only thing that can compete with a woman like her is a spring chicken like me.”

 

“No.” Jon huffs, “I wish.”

 

“What does that mean!?” Sansa unintentionally stomps her foot on her bedroom floor. Old trophies, posters, and framed photographs rattle on her pink walls.

 

“Shh!” Jon shushes her and places a firm hand on her knee.

 

Sansa stomps her foot again.

 

“Sansa.” It's the same tone he used to tell her to shut up.

 

She kicks at her wooden floorboards furiously until Jon lowers himself onto his knees to pin her legs against the edge of her bed with his strong forearms. “Sansa Stark, stop!” He hisses under his breath, she feels it hot against her thinly veiled stomach, and he uses his entire weight to restrain her. It's absolutely maddening and everything she wants in all the wrong ways.

 

It'd been days of craving his touch. She'd done this during the school year while zoning out in class, imagine all the ways he'd take her when she'd get home and back to him. But this was something new altogether. This week was it. Both of them knew what it meant, that this all, whatever it was, was make or break.

 

“Make me.” Sansa’s awful loud for being as nervous as she is. Chills spike up her hairs on every square inch of flesh she has and Jon’s pause threatens to make her moan in anticipation.

 

“Is that what you want?” His grip is tight on her throat in a matter of seconds and she bites her lip to silence a moan.

 

Sansa softens under his demanding grip and an overwhelming sense of relief threatens to make her burst. Jon squeezes on the white column of her throat just a hair more and raises an eyebrow before he repeats himself, “ _Is this what you want_?”

 

There's something about being in her own bedroom that leaves her completely speechless in response to his challenging tone. Despite the ache that had begun residing in her bones over the past few days she knows she's helpless beneath Jon’s touch. She shivers at his calloused grip and grins back in a wolffish manner. All her teeth are bared and Jon practically snarls in response.

 

It's all grabbing, shoving, and pulling between the two of them. Her bed creaks from their frantic advancements and his fingers thread mercilessly through her copper locks. The two of them are fire and gasoline upon her bedsheets and the heat courses through to her core. Jon grabs a handful of her sheer red lingerie and gives it a sharp tug, “What's this for?”

 

“You.” She's slightly annoyed at the interruption and leans in for another kiss. His hand tightens more so as if he is going to tear it. The heat builds further between them as she waits desperately for him to do something. Rip the fabric, grab her sides, and take her completely she begs him silently. Her eyes search his and they're almost impossible to make out in the warm darkness of her room. Everything is warm now that he's here.

 

Suddenly, she's being flipped over and her face is stuffed with her freshly washed and fluffy comforter. Fabric softener wafts into her nostrils so strongly it's almost like she can taste it, but it's soon forgotten when she hears the shuffle of unzipping and trousers dropping to the floor. Every smart ass remark she thinks to make is dead at the back of her throat.

 

“It's all for me.” Jon’s hoarse voice carves into the silence as his fingers trace her wetness. Sansa cries out at the contact and arches her back into the pressure, willing him to do more. An embarrassing moan escapes her when his rough hands squeeze the sensitive flesh of her ass.

 

“Yes Daddy.” Sansa snickers mischievously into her comforters and she takes his harsh and sudden spank with pleasure. Jon makes a muffled groaning noise while rubbing his hard cock against her. Sansa takes a moment to pray that he doesn’t tease her much longer. Now isn’t the time for their usual games and Jon seems to read her mind because suddenly he pushes into her and she’s whole again.

 

They rock against each other in desperate, harsh movements that creak and moan into the night. “That’s right.” Jon mumbles a different assortment of dirty encouragements while pounding into her harder still. It’s rough and perfect and everything she’d been hoping for when he’d walked into her bedroom.

 

Jon gives her another loud, hard spank and she moans in response, egging him on. “Such a good little whore.”

 

Suddenly he tears himself away from her and it’s all too fast and too much. Sansa looks over her shoulder to him scrambling at his pants on her floor. The metal of his belt buckle clinks while he rushes to clothe himself. “Fuck. Get under.” He motions at her bed and hops into the darkness so that she can’t quite make him out anymore.

 

As quick as she can Sansa rolls herself up into her comforter and holds her breath. Before she can ask any questions or beg for him to return, her door is opening and her mother’s sleepy silouhette is casted onto the floor. Catelyn is clinging to her robe and combing through her wild hair. “Sansa? Honey?”

 

“Yes?” Sansa tries to hide the panic in her voice. _Where is Jon?_

 

“Are you alright?” Catelyn takes a step into her room and Sansa squeezes her blanket around her lingerie clad body even tighter. “Yes, I’m fine. Go back to sleep mom.”

 

“You sounded—“ Catelyn drops the hand from her hair and clutches the tie around her robe before sighing, “Okay, sorry sweetie. Goodnight.”

 

“Night mom.” Sansa’s tone has more bite than she intended, but she still has no idea where Jon is and she doesn’t even want to think about what her mother would do if she saw him in her room at this hour.

 

“I love you.” Catelyn somehow manages to close her bedroom door sadly. It causes Sansa to ache slightly and she whispers the endearment back to her mother, although she’s not sure whether she heard or not since her room has returned to dark. The door is shut while her closet door creaks open.

 

“Fucking hell.” Jon gasps and runs his hands roughly through his inky curls. Sansa wants to reach forward and pull him back to her, just to be close a moment longer, but she knows he’ll leave.

 

He’ll leave and she’ll be alone. Again.

 

“I’m sorry.” Jon’s weight dips into her mattress as hot tears pool in her eyes.

 

“It’s fine.” Sansa chokes them down and clears her throat.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Jon squeezes her foot softly with the promise and then pats her thigh. “I’m going to try to see Robb tomorrow.”

 

“Good luck.” It’s cold as steel as it passes her lips. It was foolish to think things would go her way. Childish to believe that tonight would magically make everything better and cause their reality to melt away.

 

“I’m sorry.” His whisper is warm against her cheek before he places a soft kiss against her cheek.

 

The unspoken words hang heavy between them. If she says them she knows it’ll seem desperate and if Jon says them it’ll sound pathetic intertwined with his whispered apologies. Somehow the three words he’d spoken quietly into her ear that night of the charity gala had become too complicated a phrase to make up for her mother barging in.

 

“What would you have done? What would we have done if my mom had walked in on you fucking me?” Sansa’s voice is coarse from the sadness in her chest.

 

“I honestly don’t know Sansa Stark.” Jon clutches her chin gently and runs a thumb gently across the same cheek that he just kissed. “But I wouldn’t leave you.”

 

Sansa huffs at that. “Says the man who literally ran into my closet.”

 

Jon smiles, she can’t quite make it out to see it, but she can hear it, “To protect you.” A gentle kiss is planted on her forehead before he pulls away.

 

“You’ll tell me how tomorrow goes? With Robb?” Sansa peers up at him as he rises from her bed and she can sense the way he’s looking down on her.

 

“Goodnight Sansa.” Jon turns and in a flash he’s gone just as suddenly as he was there.

 

She whispers ‘I love you’ to her closed door once more before rolling over into a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck and I'm sorry I made y'all wait so long! I promise I'll be way more on top of updates and I know exactly how I want this story to end. Thanks for hanging in there.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took SO LONG. Be prepared: it's a sad one.

All those years spent running the halls of Robb’s childhood home had later translated to many a drunken night at Robb’s own apartment. Then it became relatively tame poker nights in Robb’s grown up home with his polite and elegant wife Jeyne. Val brought over wine for the two to share and laugh over while they compared their workaholic husbands.

 

It felt like a lifetime ago, or someone else’s life entirely. Jon stood in his gray t-shirt and blue jeans feeling more nostalgic than he probably should as he waited for Robb to answer the door. If Jon had shown up at his house this time last week, he would’ve just walked right in and helped himself to a glass of water. But it’s not and so here he stands alone without his wife waiting for his best friend to open the door to the house he has a key to.

 

“Coming!” Jeyne’s voice is like wind chimes from behind the giant wooden door. As she tugs the door open her beaming smile falters momentarily before she steps aside, “Hello Jon.”

 

“Hey Jeyne.” Jon steps inside and feels the nervousness from this morning eat away at his nostalgia. Jeyne wraps him in what he could only describe as an apologetic hug. Her warm eyes are sympathetic, “Robb is in his office. Would you like me to make you some tea? I think we’ve got some lemonade in the fridge.”

 

“That’s alright.” Jon gives her a forced smile, “Thanks Jeyne.”

 

All of the rooms in this house are bright and warm, much like the couple living inside. Family photographs decorate every square inch that some fucking cheesy saying about “live, laugh, love” doesn't cover. The hallway to Robb’s office is no different with its pale yellow coloring and wedding photo collages hung neatly on the wall. Jon blinks away when he spots the framed photos of Robb and Jon being each other's best man at their respective weddings.

  
  
The glass French doors are shut tightly and before Jon can give it much thought, he just pushes through. Inside the office, Robb sits behind his father’s enormous mahogany desk with his fingers paused above the keyboard. His reading glasses slide further down his nose as he straightens up in his seat and squares his jaw at Jon’s presence.

  
  
There is no missing the tension between the two, it settles awkwardly between them, and Jon can't decide whether he should pull up a seat or grab a spot on the worn leather couch where Ned had once sat Jon and Robb down to talk about the dangers of STDs and teenage pregnancy.

  
  
The chair will do.

  
  
Jon grabs it and pulls it to sit across from a silent and stoic Robb. As he takes his seat he lets his hand grab onto the edge of the desk for support and lovingly pats it after hunkering down for what's going to be the most uncomfortable talk of his life.

  
  
“Ned used to pay us five bucks to vacuum his study and polish this desk.” Jon mumbles fondly. In spite of everything a small smile somehow manages to cross his face at the pleasant memory.

  
  
Robb snorts in response and shoves his chair back. His first vocal recognition to Jon’s and it didn't contain a curse word or come with a flying fist at his face, so he considered that as one small success.

  
  
“You look like shit.” Robb slides his reading glasses off and uses them to point at Jon accusingly.

  
  
There’s no arguing that point at least. Sleep was impossible after the disaster in Sansa’s room. The couch hadn’t been doing him any favors for the past week either, and for whatever reason he couldn’t bring himself to sleep in a guest room.

  
  
Robb heaves an exhausted sigh and tosses his glasses haphazardly onto the desk between them. While he rubs at his tired eyes he mumbles something unintelligible.

  
  
“What?” Jon asks softly.

  
  
“I said I can't believe this is happening.” Robb drops his hands from his eyes to glare at Jon.

  
  
“I’m sure.” Jon crosses his arms and waits for the name calling to begin.

  
  
“That was a cheap shot, you know.” Robb huffs.

  
  
“What do you mean?” Jon stiffens at his accusatory tone.

  
  
“Bringing up this desk. Bringing up my Dad.” Venom drips from his saddened words. “What do you think he'd have to say about all this?”

  
  
“She's…” The words die at the back of his throat before he can foolishly remind Robb of the legality of sleeping with Sansa.

  
  
“You're a grown ass married man. You used your position of power to get close with and manipulate my sister into a little extracurricular martial affair.” Robb jabs his finger continuously as he lists Jon’s sins aloud to him.

  
  
“I didn't use her.” Job defends meekly. “It wasn't like that.”

  
  
“What you and Val do in your marriage…you never told me about that.” Robb’s stern voice goes strangely soft towards the end of his statement. It pulls at something in Jon’s chest that despite what’s happening, Robb still has it in him to feel sorry for Jon. It both hurts and comforts him at the same time.

  
  
Jon slumps defeated in his seat, “I didn't know how to explain it. If it kept her happy, I was willing to do it. I never once…it was just…only this. This was it.” Jon scratches at his beard and bites on his tongue to keep from saying too much his friend won't want to hear.

  
  
“So you chose a kid?” Robb’s back to the offense and it’s hard not to think about what a fierce soccer player he’d been back in their hay day.

  
  
There was a game once in high school against a rival school. It was a brutal match with rain pouring and violent gusts of wind. All the boys on both teams were out for blood in the name of getting to the championship game and Jon ended up paying a price. Some ruthless prick side tackled him with no remorse, Jon called him some kind of name, and the guy lost it. Jon was being pummeled into the sopping wet field by fists and legs. It was harder now to remember who was hurting and who was helping because all he felt were countless blows all over. Robb had been the one to get red carded for pulling the guy off Jon and beating him to a pulp. Their team didn’t make it to the championship and Robb and Jon donned matching broken noses for a month.

  
  
There are thousands of memories like that that make it impossible for the two of them to find their footing in all this. Robb and Jon had never gotten into a serious or angry yelling match that didn’t involve something with work or a video game. With a friend like Robb, it’s hard to believe he’s here in the first place.

  
  
“Listen, I'm not here to tell you I'm right in all this. I'm here to apologize.” Jon places a hesitant hand on the desk.

  
  
“You're here for me to forgive you so you can feel better about yourself. You want me to alleviate the guilt.” Robb snarls, “You're not here for a sincere apology.”

  
  
Jon weighs the silence thoughtfully before clearing his throat, “You're not entirely wrong, but I am sorry. I mean it. You know I'd never purposefully try to fuck up our friendship.”

  
  
“What you did…what you've done, I couldn't see coming from a mile away.” Robb sits back in his chair once again. “This isn't going to work, you know that right?”

  
  
The words knock the wind out of Jon and for the first time since Robb walked into the break room, Jon feels tears start to prick at his eyes. Real emotions begin to pierce through the numbness that had gotten him through the week. Robb leaned over beside his laptop to shove a giant packet of stapled papers hastily across his father’s desk.

  
  
“You're fired.” Robb squares his shoulders and every ounce of his best friend is gone. It's all business and steel when he points a pen to the stack of papers, “These are the benefits from the severance package. You own stock in the company that you can keep if you really want, but if not, feel free to sell. You should…” Robb’s words fade out from Jon’s mind and everything goes completely blank as he stares at his termination document.

  
  
“You can't fire me.” Jon barely whispers.

  
  
“I can and I did. The relationship wasn't filed with Human Resources, there was romantic interaction at the workplace, and you  _fucked my little sister behind my back_.” Robb’s eyes blaze as his jaw twitches. Every word spoken laced with the hurt and anger of Jon’s betrayal.

  
  
“I helped you with everything! Everything Robb! This is our company together!” Although Jon’s voice is raised it still manages to quiver under his disbelief.

  
  
“How am I supposed to look you in the face?” Robb jabs a finger in his direction, “How am I supposed to work with a fucking snake like you?”

  
  
“That's unfair and you know it.” Jon’s boiling and Robb’s nostrils flare as he says his point.

  
  
“You didn't even read the fucking papers. I got you a job.” Robb stabs at the stack between them with his index finger, “You'll be moving to Essos where there's a new branch of the Martell realities. You'll be doing the same thing as you are here. Same pay, same hours, same benefits.”

  
  
“Only half a world away working for a rinky dink company bound to go belly up within the next year or two.” Jon’s eyes narrow, “How'd you manage to pull this one off, Stark? Make a quick deal so they'll act like I have a job only to fire me a few months in? Or demote me? Or I'll move there and have absolutely nothing at all!”

  
  
“You're sounding real ungrateful when I could just let you go with nothing.”

  
  
Jon kicks his chair back and leans over the desk, “Keep your stupid fucking pity job, Robb. I could give a shit about real estate or salaries. I only got into this shit for you.”

  
  
Robb’s mouth goes slightly slack and Jon takes his silence for him to continue, “You're my brother. You are all I have and you're firing me from the company we built. You're moving me to another fucking country and you expect me to thank you?” Jon seethes, “I fucked up. I made wrong choices but I love you and your family.”

  
  
“You do, do you?” Robb rises slowly to his feet, “Oh I know how much you love Sansa.”

  
  
“What is this? 1880? Do I need permission to court your sister since you’re the male head of the household? Get a fucking grip man.” Jon practically chokes at the mention of her name.

  
  
Robb swallows thickly and raises his chin higher to look in Jon’s eye, “She doesn’t have a Dad, Jon. I’ve protected her for as long as I can remember. You can’t possibly—”

  
  
“I was there! I know what she means to you. Do you think I meant for this to happen?” Jon cuts him off before he can finish playing his Dad card.

  
  
“You were there and yet this still happened.” There’s so much emotion in the room it threatens to strangle them both. Robb is clearly swallowing back tears as he waits for Jon’s response.

  
  
He draws a shaky breath before answering, “I think you forget that I lost him too. Your dad was a great man and the father I never had. For you to fire me from this company is a gross injustice. How would your Dad feel about you firing me because you’re not in control? How would Ned react to you thinking you are Sansa and I’s boss in everything that we do?” Jon feels delirious as he spits his truth to a crumbling Robb.

  
  
It only feels good until he sees how crimson Robb’s face is. There’s a strained silence for a painful moment before Robb is rubbing tirelessly at his weepy eyes, “So best case scenario, how was this going to play out for you, Snow?” Robb gestures to Jon with a dismissive hand gesture, “You take Sansa away from her studies and marry her? Fuck Val and me, right? As long as you’ve got a young girl around to stroke your ego.”

  
  
“This has nothing to do with egos!” Jon shouts loud enough for Robb to hop to his feet.

  
  
“Yeah it’s about stroking something else you piece of shit!” One moment Robb is behind the desk and the next he’s right in Jon’s face. It’s clenched teeth, tight fists, and shaky breaths between the two of them and Jon is grappling to hold onto reality. His best friend wants to gut him right here and most likely the only thing stopping him is the fact that Jeyne just paid an interior decorator to redo his office. Blood probably wouldn’t come out of the brand new rug they were standing on.

  
  
“Think what you want, but I love her.” Jon steels himself for another blow much like the one he got in the break room, “ _I love her_.” He whispers one more time.

  
  
There’s no seething words or punches to the jaw, and maybe that’s scarier. Because as Jon searches Robb’s face for any indication of his next move, there’s no way he could’ve predicted him stepping back. Robb runs his hands through his neat hair and tugs at the ends violently.

  
  
“I love her.” The words tumble from his mouth with more confidence than he’s ever said aloud.

  
  
“I heard you the first time.” Robb mumbles as he pulls at his shirt collar and sighs. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

  
  
“You don’t have to tell me anything.” Jon straightens his shoulders and glances over at Ned’s desk. The one where he’d sat behind as he was told over and over how loved he was. Jon wasn’t sure if Ned would kick his ass but he knew Robb wouldn’t, “Tell the Martells thanks but no thanks.”

  
  
Robb’s eyes are blow wide in disbelief and confusion as Jon tucks his chair back closer to Ned’s desk. “What are you doing?”

  
  
Jon doesn’t bother with an answer before strolling out of Robb’s cookie cutter home.

 

*

 

Waiting always reminds Sansa of the time her kitten ran away from home. It had escaped once when Robb had accidentally left the door open after bringing in some groceries for her Mom. It had been a pity gift after her father passed and Sansa had secretly named her Nettie but didn't dare call her it aloud. Any mention of her father's name left her mother in a puddle of tears. Nettie had hit the road and never came back around no matter how much everyone insisted she'd do so. 

  
  
Years passed and Sansa still found herself thinking of the small kitten any time she sat in the living room. It took weeks before she finally stopped looking out the window for Nettie, and admittedly took it a bit harder than her father passing at the time. Nettie chose to run out of the house and never come back. 

 

Admittedly now, Sansa really couldn't care less about the damn thing. It clearly just got lost and even though it was sad, Robb had gotten her a puppy she named Lady that Christmas. Lady got out one time and that loving, loyal beast came running back hours later. " _Things have a way of coming back to you when you least expect it_ ," Catelyn had said somewhere along the way. She grins at the memory and continues looking out the window for Jon's car, she was in too deep to pretend to be playing it cool. It would be lying to claim she hadn't thought about waiting in the driveway for him to show.

  
  
Just as she’s about to burst at the seams, the front door creaks open. The summer breeze brings in a somber looking Jon and Sansa feels her grin fall immediately from her face. All her dreamt up fantasies melt away as his sullen form nears her seated self. She slowly stands and wraps her arms desperately around him. In the hours they’ve been apart, she’s missed him so terribly it consumed her.

  
  
Every possible scenario had played out in Sansa’s head and she was eager to just get it all over with. To finally hear what her brother had to say. She still had yet to answer his text from yesterday, too fearful that she’d ruin Jon’s chances of sticking up for their relationship. Surely Jon’s sadness is just leftover from Robb’s harsh words. Everything had to be fine now that they were with each other, right?

  
  
But somehow even being so close in their embrace, he feels so far. Jon’s touch is distant and his breathing shallow. Sansa looks up at him frantically, “I’ve missed you.”

  
  
“Sansa.” Jon replies followed by a both visible and audible swallow. Her stomach lodges in her throat at the sound of her name passing his lips.

  
  
“What?” Sansa pushes her head into his chest in disbelief, aching to sink into him so that he cannot tear himself away. Gently, his fingers weave themselves through her copper hair to make her glimpse into his eyes. They’re unrecognizable with all the sorrow in them and it makes her knees go wobbly.

  
  
“Sansa.” He rasps as he traces the pad of his thumb across her cheekbone, “I’m sorry.”

  
  
Every hair on her body rises at the sound of it. His words are a swift punch in the gut and Sansa is left reeling from the sound of them. “Sorry for what?” She searches his face for any kind of indicator that this isn’t what she thinks it is.

  
  
Jon’s smiling so sadly that it might as well be a frown, his grip on her hair is poisonous, “You deserve better.”

  
  
“I don’t want better. I want you.” Sansa scrambles in fear. She feels her eyes go wide as he pulls away from her grasp. Involuntarily she falls in his direction, lost at his sudden absence. Jon has no choice but to catch her falling figure and grunt at the force of it. They’ve landed on the couch she was waiting for him on. The couch she sat on thinking that he’d make everything okay.

  
  
Her lips crash into his and he groans in protest, not quite giving into her pleading kisses. She’s yanking at his curls and pushing her body against his until she finally feels him give in. Jon is sickeningly gentle, with soft kisses planted upon her sharp jaw and all the way down her exposed neck. She ruts herself against him but he only softly squeezes at her bottom over her athletic shorts. It’s all too much and still not enough. He tastes like gold, warm, shiny, and much too rich. He’s all she’s ever wanted, how could she do better?

  
  
Then he’s pulling away again and she feels as if she’s got the spins. All the lacking and gaining of oxygen has left her dizzy while her lips tingle from the sensation of his beard. She reaches out to stroke at the hair on his face but he moves away. It kicks her in the ribs to watch him brush her off, to see the way he sits up to obscure his hard cock, and straighten up his spine.

  
  
“I didn’t come here to do that, I’m so sorry.” Jon looks at her with the most crestfallen gaze.

  
  
“Then what did you come here for?” Anger pools in her guts as she defensively snaps at him.

  
  
Jon looks expectant of her response, like this is what he’s been waiting for all along. “I’ve got to go.”

  
  
And just like that, she’s breathless. “Go?” Her voice quivers with fear.

  
  
“I can’t stay here. I can’t be here.” Jon explains and reaches out to place a hand on her knee. Sansa swats it away and glares at him with as much acidity as she can muster, “If you wanted to stay, you would.”

  
  
There’s too long a pause for Jon to come back from, and Sansa is pushing herself up and off the couch to remove her from the source of the pain wracking violently through her system. “You’re leaving Val! My brother knows! The only reason you’re not staying is because you don’t want to.”

  
  
Jon opens and closes his mouth several times but still remains silent. There’s knowingness behind his haunting gray eyes that Sansa feels the urge to smack out of him. To hurt him the way he’s hurting her. But she only wraps her arms around herself and stares at him in incredulity.

  
  
“You’re going to find a man—” Jon starts but Sansa’s hardened glare cuts him off.

  
  
“Fuck off.” Sansa sneers, “Shut up!”

  
  
All of a sudden she’s physical and yanking him up by the arm and dragging him much too easily towards the front door. Why isn’t he fighting? Why isn’t he pulling back?

  
  
“Sansa.” Jon begs and it drives her absolutely mad. All he can seem to say is her name.

  
  
“Get out!” Sansa roars as she boldly shoves at his chest. Jon doesn’t bat a lash at her abrasiveness. “If you want to leave then leave! Just like everyone else always does! Just go!” Tears pour from nowhere down her cheeks, coursing their shameful, hot paths down her reddened cheeks.

  
“I don’t want to go.” But his hand is on the doorknob.

  
  
“GET OUT!” Sansa screeches and pushes him while he swings the front door open. He’s stepping through the doorway and it’s all so easy for him. So simple to say goodbye.

 

There are tears in his eyes when she grabs hold of the door; Jon’s mouth moves to form words but Sansa slams the door before he can inflict any more pain on her.

  
  
It’s easier to tell someone to leave than it is to watch them choose to do so.

  
  
  
*

 

“Hello?” Robb’s voice is heavy with sleep and worry, “Sansa?”

  
  
It’s 2 AM, five hours since Jon appeared and a week since she’s spoken to her older brother.

  
  
“Hi.” She squeaks into the darkness of her room. She clutched the phone tighter to her cheek when she hears his exhale.

  
  
“You alright?” Robb sounds like he is slipping out of his and Jeyne’s bedroom. No doubt to protect her from whatever he’s got to say to Sansa. She gulps nervously and rubs at her swollen eyes. “Fine. Are you alright?”

  
  
Robb gives a rueful chuckle, “Fine. Thanks for calling.”

  
  
The tenderness in his voice makes her well up all over again, a sob lurching to the back of her throat. “Do you still love me?”

  
  
“Sansa.” It sounds too much like how Jon had said her name earlier in the night. It carves into her chest and twists the pain just a bit deeper. “There’s nothing you could ever do that would make me stop. I love you, kid.”

  
  
She sniffles into the receiver and stumbles over what to reply with. His sentiments mean so much, it’s all she’s been waiting to hear.

  
  
“I’m sorry all this is happening. It can’t be easy.” Robb clears his throat, “I’m sorry I got so over protective. I couldn’t help it, you’re all…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to treat you like a little kid or a piece of meat.”

  
  
“Thank you.” She means it. All he’s ever done is protect and love her and ask for nothing in return. “I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  
  
She can hear him smile through the phone, “I know you didn’t Sansy.” They both laugh through their quiet tears at his mention of her old and embarrassing nickname.

  
  
“You’re the best big brother anyone could ask for.”

  
  
“Thanks Sansa, that means a lot.” Robb sounds so exhausted.

  
  
Sleep weighs heavy on her much too tired eyelids and she finds herself closing them as she mutters, “Dad would be proud.”

  
  
“I know he’s proud of us.” Robb whispers in return.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you. thank you, thank you for all your support and comments. I finally know where this is headed and got the inspiration back to continue it. I hope you all don't gut me after making you wait and then giving you this depressing ass chapter. LOVE YOU THOUGH


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is kinda a filler don't kill me!! but it's a time jump and some new characters so I can get this ball rolling

_Seven Years Later_

It’s been at least three years since Sansa set foot on Stark Industries’ property. Sansa had worked on her computer programming degree while she worked part time for her school’s computer lab. From her sophomore to senior years, she stuck to her campus and only came back to Winterfell for rare occasions and short visits on holidays. Winterfell, home, had been a gaping, oozing sore for Sansa throughout her undergrad degree.

 

So she applied for her master’s and went on to continue working, living, and attending to school in the Vale. It was easy to drown in work and assignments, something that reminded her so much of both her father and brother. How easy it was to become so incredibly engrossed in a project that it feels like you blink and suddenly its 3 AM and you haven’t eaten in hours. That kind of work ethic is what made her a prime candidate for a new branch of her company launching in Kings Landing.

 

Winterfell sucked her in before she could officially hit the road, and here she was walking out of the elevator to meet up with her older brother. A new receptionist smiles warmly at her, “Hello, Miss Stark.”

 

“Hello. My brother?” Sansa looks at Robb’s closed office door and the teeny blonde looks to the phone on her desk.

 

“He should be free, his line isn’t busy.” She waves her ahead and Sansa smiles gratefully, trying not to judge too hard that the woman didn’t call her brother to let him know she’d arrived.

 

Sansa knocks twice as she pushes the heavy door open, “Hey.”

 

Robb hops up and crosses his office in about two large steps to envelop her in a suffocating bear hug. “Sansa, hey!” She sputters under the pressure of his hug and Robb gives her a final squeeze before dropping his arms. “Kate didn’t tell me you were here.”

 

Sansa inwardly sighs, she’d be doomed to forever judge how other receptionists did things. “Well, I’m here.”

 

“Thanks so much for coming, I know you’re busy.” Robb motions for her to come in and sit in one of the chairs before his desk. Sansa sinks down just as Robb is passing over his laptop. “I’m desperate for your help. I’ll pay you, I’ll do whatever.” Robb points at the messy webpage for Stark Industries.

 

“Oh yikes.” Sansa clicks her tongue and clicks around to search through the disaster, “Who did this?”

 

“It’s from years ago, we lost our other domain because some asshole bought it out and we didn’t get any warning. So I’m left with this mess. Our usual tech guy just had a baby, and I knew you were headed this way to grab your stuff. I just figured it was worth a shot.” Robb explains as Sansa places the laptop on her lap.

 

Robb clears his throat, “I’ve never seen your work or anything, you know? It’s weird you’re so grown up and professional.”

 

Sansa smiles up at her older brother and nods her head, “Professional as shit. You don’t have to pay me; this will take maybe an hour or two at most. I’ll shut it down until then and let you see it before I have it go live.”

 

“Genius.” Robb beams, “You’re the best.”

 

Sansa winks and puts the laptop back on his desk to begin her work. Figuring Robb would go back to doing whatever it was he was working on before. “You’re moving so far, are you excited?”

 

Her eyes drag away from the screen to look at his wide eyes and she realizes he’s  _sad._  “Yeah it’s a great opportunity and I’m ready for some sun.”

 

“You’ll do great.” Robb gives her a bright smile and steps around his desk to give her shoulder a squeeze. “See you at dinner tonight, yeah?”

 

Sansa gives him an over dramatic sigh before mumbling, “Yeah.” They share a knowing smile and she grabs the laptop and makes her way over to the conference room to begin working. After a couple hellos with familiar faces, she sinks down into a padded chair to start cleaning up the mess that was the website before her. She dives into her coding before she can get caught up in the memories of the table she's working on top of and a pair of strong hands.

 

x

 

“To Aunt Sansy!” Robb cheers loudly while balancing his wobbly three-year-old son on his lap. Little Brynden squealed along with his clapping parents while his smiling grandma Cat continued rocking his baby sister Minisa to sleep.

 

Sansa rolled her eyes at the nickname and elbowed her brother’s ribs gently, “Yeah, yeah. Thanks guys! I love you all!”

 

It’s a little bittersweet to be gathered around her mom’s table for her last Friday night dinner for a while.

 

“So you’re all packed up then? Are you leaving in the morning?” Jeyne fussed with Bryden’s curls and nodded towards the piles of boxes by the foyer.

 

It had been even weirder to compile all of her belongings to move out of her home than it had been when she first went away to college. Catelyn hadn’t stopped rattling on about her being all grown up and heading out to leave her alone to rot in the giant home all alone. Too many opportunities had arisen for Sansa to snap and tell her mom to just sell the damned thing, but in truth if her mom ever got the balls to do it, Sansa would be more mad at that then her mom’s guilt trips about her moving so far away.

 

Catelyn sighed dramatically, “Oh, she’s been packed for the last week. Can’t wait to get away it seems.” A pained smile passes over her face like she’s trying to play it off as if she’s only joking.

 

“Mom.” Robb glares over at her, “It’s exciting.” He reminds her through slightly gritted teeth.

 

Catelyn looks down at Minisa and strokes her plump cheek like it’ll give her the patience for this conversation. Robb had obviously been talking to Catelyn about being more supportive about Sansa’s big move. “Yes, yes, so exciting. You’re going to do great in Kings Landing honey.”

 

After graduating from school 3 years ago, she had become a very successful web designer for a local starter company up in the Vale. She’d worked odd jobs for small businesses and had shaken the right hands that ended her a job in Kings Landing. Soon she’d be working for her boss' new side hustle business he had some major stock in. Petyr Baelish had been mentoring her all throughout her schooling and career before successfully hooking her up with an important promotion.

 

It was a huge opportunity and Catelyn was more than pleased that her family friend had helped her daughter with everything. Petyr seemed genuinely excited for her and insisted she relocate as soon as possible just as she had finished her masters. Robb had looked into everything and reassured her it seemed like something she shouldn’t pass up.

 

The idea of getting the hell out of Winterfell was a welcome one, something she had thought about for a long time. Leaving behind her month old niece and little Brynden wasn’t going to be all that fun, but she was more than eager to get out of her small town and into a big city. Sansa was more of a tank top kind of girl anyway, she had told herself when she packed her sweaters in a box to be left behind at her mom’s.

 

“Thank you.” Sansa looks around the table and smiles wide. “I won’t be gone long though, the holidays are right around the corner.”

 

Robb seems to consider this and then looks over to their dazed mom looking dreamily at her granddaughter, “Speaking of…”

 

“Robb.” Jeyne hisses but Robb’s already got Catelyn’s attention.

 

“What?” Catelyn is on high alert as soon as she sees Jeyne’s panicked expression.

 

Brynden begins to fuss and twists to reach out for his mom; Jeyne grabs him up all too eagerly as a distraction and waits for Robb to break the news. “We’re going to Jeyne’s parents for Thanksgiving.”

 

Sansa just sips on her water calmly. She’s fully prepared to come to her brother’s defense when her mom is sure to lose her shit, but instead Catelyn just nods along to what he’s just told her. “Alright.”

 

“Alright?” Robb scrambles at his mom’s reaction, he had been so sure that she was going to become delirious at the suggestion. Maybe Minisa is the only thing keeping her from launching a full on attack. “We’ll be here for Christmas.”

 

“Of course.” Catelyn looks back to Minisa and gently readjusts the baby in her arms. It’s clear she’s hurt but doesn’t want to make a scene in front of Jeyne and the babies. Sansa looks nervously over at Robb who clears his throat and bobs his head awkwardly.

 

“I’ll be home.” Sansa adds weakly and Catelyn lifts her watery eyes up at her daughter and smiles wistfully. “Of course you will, my baby. You and me forever.”

 

“You and me forever.” Sansa winks and tosses her brother a smug smile before gently kicks at his calf. Robb tries to hide his eye roll by taking Brynden back into his lap.

 

x

 

Robb huffs as her armoire flops out of his grasp and clatters to her bedroom floor. Sansa gasps and gives him a sharp glare, “Robb!”

 

“Sorry! Sorry! My back is killing me and I’m starved!” Robb whines as he pushes in the drawers hanging loosely from the furniture. Sansa shoves them in alongside her 46 year old brother and frowns, “You’re old, is what you are.”

 

“Ha ha.” Robb flicks her off and scoops up the water bottle Sansa had purchased earlier while they had waited for her moving truck to show. It had been a long day of travel and moving in all her belongings. She was lucky that her brother even offered up his help and left both work and his family behind for an entire day. It made her emotional to think about Brynden and Minisa being so far away and she looks to Robb with doleful eyes, “I’ll miss you.”

 

“Don’t get all sentimental on me yet. Let’s get food and then you can cry about what a great brother I am for helping you move all this shit up seven floors.” Robb waves around at her scattered apartment and points to the door, “I’ve been here enough times for travel to know there’s a pizza place about two blocks away that’s pretty decent.”

 

“Mmm, pretty decent pizza. My favorite.” Sansa scrunches her nose and follows after her brother who flicks her off one more time, just for good measure.

 

They walk along the crazed sidewalks and head towards the place Robb mentioned. He’s in the middle of explaining how the preschool search for Brynden is going as they walk inside the air-conditioned restaurant. “Oh thank god, I was about to fucking die.” Robb fans at his face, “I don’t know how you’re going to deal with this heat.”

 

Sansa looks down at her tank top and shrugs, “I’ll live.”

 

It only takes a few minutes before they’re given a giant pepperoni pizza. Robb passes over the cardboard box for her to hold as he heads to the restroom, leaving her to awkwardly balance the thing and stay out of everyone’s way. Tons of people wait in line for their own meals and the few tables in the place are taken. A group of laughing girls push through the front door and Sansa peels her eyes away from the pizza oven to watch them huddle close and decide what to order. She looks past them at the towering building across the street from where they came, and tries to guess at which company they must be working for.

 

A few of the names appear to be construction companies or realty groups much like her brother’s. It seems hard to believe that those glamorous women would work at any of those places or that they would even be in a pizza place such as this. She continues squinting across the street when a name pops out that nearly makes her drop the pizza. A few aged and much smaller buildings stand between the towering skyscrapers, and amongst them is a crumbling stone place with the name TRGYN Carpentry.

 

 _It couldn’t be_. Can it?  _No_. Not in the heat of Kings Landing, there’s no way.

 

“You ready?” Robb sneaks up on her so quickly she actually jumps. “Whoa, you okay?”

 

“Yeah, sorry. Thought I saw something.” Sansa shakes it off and passes the pizza back to Robb, “Let’s head back.”

 

“Alright weirdo.” Robb leads them back to her place and continues his rant of preschool problems while Sansa tries not to stare at the building for too long.

 

x

 

It’s late on a Thursday afternoon, wood chips lie in disarray around the smooth pavement floors. Sweat pours down Jon’s tired face, causing annoying condensation to gather on his eye goggles. He lightly places his electric sander to the ground and moves to wipe at the steam blocking his vision. The oak table he’s been working on is nearly finished and although his back is threatening to break on him, he’d rather keep his promise of finishing it up by Tuesday and having it delivered uptown.

 

“You’ve got to eat something!” Samwell Tarly, Jon’s best friend, assistant, and everything under the sun, nags him from a few feet away. Sam blends into the wooden materials displayed in the shop front of his workplace with his khaki pants and brown dress shirt.

 

It’s heartwarmingly irritable how he only seems to interrupt right when Jon is in the thick of things. Jon grunts in response and shrugs while moving to put his eye goggles back onto his face. “Wait! I got a pizza from across the street.”

 

Jon pulls a face, “Mediocre pizza; my favorite.”

 

“Shut up and eat it, will you?” Sam rolls his eyes and turns expectantly. Jon’s stomach decides to rumble just as soon as he catches up to his friend and he sees Sam barely containing a smug smile. “Plates are all dirty.”

 

Jon and Sam both reach for slices of pizza and eat in comfortable silence. The bread is somehow chewy and dry at the same time, but the delicious sauce and gooey cheese try their best to make up for it. Plus, he really had been starving. He hadn’t gone grocery shopping in about two weeks, so he’d been coming to work powered on nothing but black coffee and sheer will.

 

“Thanks Sam.” Jon looks away from the pizza dripping grease along his hands in time to see a flash of the most unforgettable copper hair.

 

“You’re welcome. You know, it’s really not—“ Sam is cut off by Jon violently tossing the remnants of his pizza into the box and missing. It splatters amongst Sam’s sketches and Jon’s workbooks. “Jon!” Sam shouts and hastily begins to clean it up.

 

It’s all behind Jon; he’s already outside the door and standing right in front of his building watching a woman and a man walking beside one another and happily talking amongst themselves. The woman did have familiar vibrant red hair, but there was no way she’d come this far south. Not in this heat. Jon wipes at the sweat still on his brow and sighs.

 

Sam is cross when Jon re-enters the place, “You’ve ruined my sketch for that girl’s jewelry box! I worked real hard on this you know.”

 

“I thought it was…” Jon trails off while staring towards the back of his workshop.

 

“What?” Sam jumps at Jon’s mysteriousness and steps closer, “What’d you see?” He’s peering out their giant front windows and looking at all the people bustling about the sidewalks.

 

“I thought I saw someone.” Jon looks to Sam who drops his pizza mid bite.

 

Sam swallows thickly and furrows a confused eyebrow, “Who?”

 

Jon shakes his head and pulls his eye goggles from his work pant’s pocket. “Doesn’t matter. It wasn’t who I thought it was.”

 

Sam gently sets his unfinished pizza back into the box and closes it up. “Who did you think it was?”

 

“Someone from another life.” Jon quickly slips on his protection and trudges back towards his work, his appetite completely disappearing.

 

“The poetic Jon Targaryen, ladies and gentleman.” Sam tries his hand at a joke.

 

To which Jon starts up his electric sander in response. There’s nothing quite like manual labor to drown out your wishful thinking.

 

x

 

**To: TRGRYN Carpentry (samtarly@trgyncarpentry.com)**

**From: Sansa ([sstark@landingweb.com](mailto:sstark@landingweb.com))**

**Hello,**

**I’m interested in purchasing a new desk and was wondering who to get in touch with and how to get details on pricing and materials.**

**Thanks in advance,**

  
**Sansa Stark**

**Landing Web Design**

**842 West 8** ** th ** **Street**

 

Sansa shakes out her hands and cracks her neck before pressing the bright blue “send” button. It’d taken her all of three days to work up the courage to Google the place. It’d been a rather simple website with a couple photographs and a contact email to a man named Sam. Then it’d been a few more days of typing up an e-mail, deleting it, re-writing another, and then deleting that one too.

 

Now it was 8:00 on a Wednesday night, almost a week since she’d seen the building for the first time. After being fueled by a toxic mix of boredom, loneliness, and a bit too much wine, here she sat staring at her computer screen telling her she successfully sent an e-mail about a desk she doesn’t care about and can’t even afford.

 

The curiosity has been eating at her for days, but she needs to know.

 

There’s no way he’d come this far south.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hopefully this wasn't crap. let me know what you think!


	11. Chapter 11

**To: Sansa Stark (sstark@landingweb.com**

**From: Snow Carpentry (samtarly@snowcarpentry.com)**

**Ms. Stark,**

**We appreciate you expressing interest in Snow Carpentry and would love to get in touch about making you your dream desk. Feel free to give us a call or stop by the store!**

**(555) 555-3425**

**134 W Main Street**

**Looking forward to hearing from you.**

**Best,**

**Sam**

 

There’s a fluttering in Sansa’s chest as she rereads the response for the fifth time since receiving it at 9:08 this morning. It’s just about lunch time, and Sansa has been jittery ever since checking her inbox. She’d been lucky to have her head on straight enough to catch a few errors in an upcoming code for an ad campaign. A meeting was set for 3:00 to go over the details and for a run through that the sales team was going to present.

 

 

It was impossible for the clock to move any slower.

 

 

“Sansa, my dear, how are you?” Petyr Baelish’s charming voice fills her cubicle and causes her to jump. He chuckles in response, “Did I frighten you?”

 

 

Sansa swallows and tries to wipe at her blushing cheeks, “No, sorry, just surprised is all.”

 

 

Petyr welcomes himself into the tiny space and places a heavy hand on her shoulder, “Didn’t mean to do either to you. Tell me Sansa, how has your experience in Kings Landing been thus far?”

 

 

“Wonderful.” Sansa eyes the clock beside her monitor and moves to rise from her office chair. “It’s lunch time though and I’m looking forward to getting something to eat before the meeting.”

 

 

“Mind if I join you?” Petyr’s grin spreads like ink across his face, “I’d love to hear more about how things are going. We haven’t spoken much since you moved here.”

 

 

It takes an embarrassing pause and Petyr’s lingering hand for her to fully wrap her mind around the idea that her mentor is hitting on her. Right here, in their shared work place, and she tries not to make things too strange. “Actually, I was grabbing a quick bite then running an errand. Maybe another time?”

 

 

“Surely you wouldn’t mind the company? The big city can get so lonely.”

 

 

“I’m fine. Thanks.” Sansa stands and maneuvers her shoulder from his grip before giving him a curt smile. “I’ll see you in the meeting.”

 

 

Petyr straightens his sports jacket and nods, “Of course. Looking forward to getting together outside of the office sometime soon.”

 

 

Sansa gets out of there as quick as she can manage without drawing too much attention to herself. She feels disgruntled and hurt by his actions, not that he had done anything awful, it just made her feel so seedy. Like maybe the guys in her class had been right about Petyr only wanting to get in her pants. He’d never done anything like this before and it left her reeling as she pushed open the door to walk out onto the sidewalk.

 

 

It’s a quite a walk from KLWD all the way to Snow Carpentry, but she needs the air. Sansa finds her blood pressure lowering as she gets further and further away from the building and closer to where she’s wanted to be all day. It’s not until she’s in front of the pizza place and can see the building that she begins to feel uneasy all over again.

 

 

Sansa glances down at her Apple watch and estimates she has about 20 minutes to get this ridiculousness out of the way and can get back to her new life. She feels silly for even being here, but she just can’t help herself, so she crosses the street and pushes open the sleek glass door.

 

 

A burly, stout man smiles cheekily at her, “Hello, how may I help you today?”

 

 

Sansa can’t find it in herself to return his cheerful grin due to the sinking feeling in her chest. She should’ve known better. “Ah, yes, sorry. I e-mailed you about a desk?”

 

 

“Oh! Sansa?” The man walks around the desk he was standing behind to stick a hand out, “I’m Sam Tarly.”

 

 

Sansa shakes his hand and forces a tender smile, “Nice to meet you, Sam.”

 

 

“Well, do you have anything in mind? Any sort of style you’re looking for?” Sam gestures for her to come closer to his own desk. It’s a vision, truly, it has intricate design and looks as beautiful as it does sturdy.

 

 

It reminds her so much of her father’s old desk.

 

 

Sansa shakes her head briskly, “No, not particularly. I have to be honest with you, I’m not quite sure I can afford any of the pieces here.”

 

 

“Sam! Did you order the take out?” A familiar, gruff voice shouts out from behind Sam. The front space they’re standing in is quite cozy, with comfortable looking sofas and two desks on display. There is a metal garage door separating them from what Sansa assumes is the work space. It’s about five feet from where they’re standing and closed off.

 

 

“Sorry,” Sam sighs and then turns his head, “We’ve got a customer! I’ll get to it in a minute.”

 

 

Sansa’s stomach turns when the garage door is pulled up, and none other than Jon Snow himself is standing in a white undershirt, jeans, work boots, and a smock. Safety goggles cover his eyes, but Sansa has a feeling they’re just as wide as hers are.

 

 

“Sansa.”

 

 

The room spins, her breath hitches, and her shaky hand flies to cover her gaping mouth.

 

 

“You know one another?” Sam looks between them in confusion before settling his vision on a shocked Sansa. “Do you need a seat?”

 

 

Sansa shakes her head fervently and drops her hand from her mouth, “Jon? What on earth are you doing here?”

 

 

“I work here.” He has his arms hanging loosely by his sides and his goggles remain intact.

 

 

Sam shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot before shooting Sansa another warm smile, “This is the carpenter. I usually draw up the sketches and he can carve them out in no time, he’s truly got a talent. Don’t worry about what you mentioned earlier. We can make up a payment plan and work with you on that bit.”

 

Sansa can’t look away. It’s been years since she’s seen him and now that he’s right before her she must fight that familiar feeling to run to him. Jon finally removes his goggles and perches them on top of his head.

 

 

There’s more salt in his pepper beard and head of hair, but he’s as handsome as ever. There are a pair of gold rimmed glasses framing his vacant gaze and his mouth twitches briefly before returning to a straight line. “Sam, do you mind picking up take out?”

 

 

Sam blinks a couple times and then looks to Sansa, “Do you want anything?”

 

 

“No thanks.” Sansa whispers and then Sam is clumsily gathering up his keys and wallet.

 

 

“What are you doing here?” Jon asks as soon as Sam is out the door.

 

 

Sansa pulls at her work coat and sucks in a breath, “I work here now. I, uh, live here too. I’m a web designer at Kings Landing Web Design.”

 

 

Jon’s jaw ticks, “Congratulations.”

 

 

Sansa nods thanks and motions around the room, “I didn’t know you were into wood working.”

 

 

“Had to find a way to pay the bills but turns out it’s rather nice. I enjoy the peace and solitude it brings me.” Jon looks around his new life and Sansa feels so out of place all at once.

 

 

She forces a smile, “It’s good to see you happy.”

 

 

Jon cocks his head and throws her a look, “Close enough.”

 

 

Finally, he’s walking closer and further away from the giant hole in the wall created by the garage door being pulled up. “Did you want a desk?”

 

 

Sansa can’t help but laugh at herself, “I don’t have anywhere to put one.”

 

 

“Then why are you here?” Jon crosses his arms and scratches at his eyebrow. It’s so dismissive and platonic that Sansa feels even more foolish than she had before.

 

 

“I just had to see…” She trails off and looks down to her feet.

 

 

“See what?” Jon prods, “Here I am and here you are.”

 

 

“This was stupid, I just had to see. I wanted to know what happened to you. Where you ended up and if you were happy. I haven’t stopped wanting the answers to those questions ever since you left my house that night.” Sansa crosses the room to stand close to him. “I had to see if it was you.”

 

 

Jon sighs, “It’s me alright.”

 

 

His scent is as intoxicating as ever, especially now with the scent of wood and sweat, he smells masculine and divine.

 

 

“If you don’t need anything from us though, it’s probably best you leave.”

 

 

“Oh.” Sansa gasps out and immediately starts back peddling, literally. She’s stepping backwards and shaking her head, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

 

 

She collides with a sweaty Sam who just pushed through the door and catches her easily, “Oh, so sorry Sansa, didn’t mean to bump into you.”

 

 

Sansa shoves off him and steps to grab the door, “Sorry Sam.”

 

 

“Sansa? If it’s about the prices, I promise…” Sam starts but Sansa loses his words as soon as she shuts the door and starts down the sidewalks back the way she came.

 

 

Her chest is tight and eyes watery, but she makes it a block and a half before bursting out into tears she hadn’t known she was holding back. They run down her cheeks in relentless streams. It leaves her vulnerable and flustered on the street.

 

 

How stupid could she be?

 

 

What did she think was going to happen? She ruined his life.

 

 

Once a sob bubbles up in her throat, she forces herself to calm down. The hysterics she’s currently throwing are entirely inappropriate for the streets of Kings Landing, and she takes a few harbored breaths before pulling up the Uber app on her phone.

 

 

A car is set to pick her up in a minute, and with that she allows herself to collapse on the curb. People bustle around her with ease. They don’t even spare her a second glance, let alone a helping hand. She wipes at her stupid tears and silently scolds herself for everything she’s done.

 

 

The black car pulls up beside her and Sansa jumps inside for a ride back to her work. She feels shell shocked and hollow. So much so that when she gets out and Petyr is on the sidewalk, she doesn’t pull away when he wraps an arm around her shoulders.

 

 

“You alright?” Petyr has sincere concern in his voice.

 

 

Sansa wipes at her nose and shrugs, “Fine. Just saw a puppy video.”

 

 

Petyr chuckles and pulls her in for a quick embrace, “If you ever need anything, you know I’m here for you.”

 

 

Sansa makes no response and allows him to pull her into the elevator with him. Petyr squeezes her shoulder with his hand, “You sure you’re okay?”

 

 

It takes a fake smile and over enthusiastic nod for Petyr to stop pestering her about her wellbeing. They come out of the elevator together and it’s only then that Petyr lets go of his grip of her. “See you in the meeting.”

 

 

“Sure, see you.” Sansa makes a fast break to the bathroom. According to her Apple watch she has about 10 minutes to collect herself and get back to work at her ordinary desk.

 

 

*

 

 

Jon’s an idiot.

 

 

She ran out the door before he could say all the things he’d been planning to say for all this time.

 

 

“842 West 8th Street buddy! Go! Go! Go!” Sam yells after him as he jets down the sidewalks to follow her.

 

 

He sees a flash of red hair climbing into a car, and panic fuels him to pick up the pace. It’s about a fifteen-minute walk, but Jon figures if he sprints he can make it there in ten.

 

 

How was he supposed to react when he’d seen her? Certainly not the way he had, but maybe she’d understand. All Jon knew was that he needed to see her. Needed to apologize and say all the words that had been stuck in his mouth since the last time he saw her.

 

 

She looked like a woman grown in her work attire, it hurt him to see how much she’d seemed to already have changed.

 

 

_Of course, she’s changed, she was 18 when you were with her._

 

 

Jon shoves the thought aside and books it for the block he figures her building is on. He stops short at the corner when he sees an older man sling his arm around the width of her shoulders, so easy, so familiar. Something he would have done some time ago.

 

 

Bile rises to his throat when he watches the man smile down at her in a reassuring way.

 

 

Jon spins on his heel and makes his way back to work without another glance back.

 

 

She really had found someone new, just like he told her, just like he thought he wanted. 

 

 

Too bad it was everything but. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, well, well, look who got their shit together. (hint hint: me. not the two bozos in this story)  
> thanks for all your kinds notes of encouragement and patience for my bullshit. I appreciate it all SO much!!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this was a BEAST

Robb hadn’t thought about being an older brother since he was a kid, back when the other kids at school would bring their siblings around or when he watched cartoons and they all had giant families with brothers and sisters playing and fighting. Robb had his overprotective and almost too involved Mom and a distant, overworked, and loving Dad.

  


When he met Jon Targaryen, a fellow only child, they both adopted each other as brothers. They grew up riding bikes around, playing way too many video games, joining the soccer team and eventually going to the same college. Over the years they’d had collected a ragtag group of pals, but at the end of the day it was always Robb and Jon.

  


So reasonably, Jon was the first person that Robb told when the news broke of him becoming a big brother. It was gross, weird, confusing, but mostly, exciting. When his Mom gave birth to a healthy, plump baby girl, Robb had surprised himself with the amount of tears that sprang from his eyes over how happy he was to meet his new little sister.

  


She had this little plop of red fuzz on top of her tiny head, a round, peaceful face, and bright blue eyes that she rarely opened. Sansa was a sweet newborn who was easily pleased and calm. That was probably the payoff for almost killing Catelyn during labor, but they both made it out alive and kicking. Between Ned, Catelyn, and Robb, Sansa probably had yet to lay in a crib by herself since she was born.

  


After a week of being at home, Ned had to go back to work. The night before heading back to the office he came into Robb’s bedroom while holding his little sister. “Can I talk to you?”

  


Robb was in the middle of packing up his bag so that he could go back to university in the morning to finish up his fall semester of junior year. Jon was seated on the edge of his bed and was in the middle of filling him in on what he had missed at school. Babies weren’t really Jon’s thing, but he’d seen Sansa in Robb’s arms and thought she was a cool enough squishy alien. He was more happy for the Starks than anything, but he was eager to get his best friend back to school so that he didn’t have to amble around campus so aimlessly.

 

Ned nudged the door open wider with his hip and grabbed a spot next to Jon on the bed. After a stock-still moment, Ned motioned for Robb to take his little sister from his tired arms. Robb did so willingly, and even adjusted her swaddle before making her comfortable in the crook of his arm.

  


“I’m old.”

  


Jon let out a snort as Robb laughed and looked away from his sister to see his Dad’s face only half smiling. “Not _that_ old.”

  


“Too old to have a week old baby.” Ned ran his hand over his freshly shaven face and sighed, “Your mother is exhausted.”

  


“It’s just a baby.” Robb shrugged and Ned let out a contorted laugh, a noise unlike anything Robb had ever heard his father make. Jon looked at Robb holding a baby and felt the same discomfort he did when Catelyn offered up the baby for him to hold. He politely declined and simply patted her baby head and ignored Robb’s teasing.

  


Ned gently dragged his thumb across Sansa’s forehead and looked at Robb, “I want you boys to promise me you’ll look after her.”

  


Robb’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion. This isn’t a conversation he was ready to have or properly process and he really just wanted to get back to Jon’s story of Sam puking at D-Hall, so he just agreed quickly. “Sure, Dad.”

  


Jon nodded easily in agreement and looked down at his shoes. What does that even mean? Feed her a sandwich here and there? He wasn’t quite sure what Ned is getting at.

  


“One day she’ll need you.” Ned sighed and touched his son’s shoulder lightly, “I need you to promise.”

  


“Yeah Dad, of course.” Robb swallowed at the dark edge in his father’s tone and looked to Sansa, “I promise.”

  


His head then turned to look at Jon who nodded promptly once more, “Sure, Mr. Stark.”

  


“You’re a good man, Jon.” Ned clapped Jon on the back and then refocused on his son. Ned gave him a tight and closed mouth smile before gathering Sansa back into his arms, “Thanks Robb, I love you.”

  


“You too.” Jon blushed and stumbled over the words.

  


“Love you too, Dad.” Robb sort of mumbled under his breath, taken aback from the sudden tender and intimate talk that was just sprung on him. Ned glanced back at them before closing the bedroom door and heading back to his room to put her in her rocker.

  


Jon and Robb fell into an awkward silence before Robb turned and tossed his last sweater into his bag. “Enough serious shit, let’s get beer on the way back and find our way into that Sigma Kappa party. Val is going to be there, so don’t even fight it.”

 

*

 

For the first time since Jon relocated to Kings Landing, he’s angry at Sansa. The past few years had been painful, lonely, and sad. It’d only started to come together for him maybe in the past year or so. Of course right when things had started to look up for him, she shows up just to throw all his shit to the fan.

  


Jon had new friends, a home, and a business he truly loved and was proud of. All it took was Sansa Stark walking in for three minutes for the ache of the hollow she’d left to kick up again. And all for nothing, she’d clearly only been there to get a rise out of him.

  


Ever since Jon returned after his lame attempt at chasing her, he’d been totally off kilter. The past week had been full of silent contemplation masked by fuming rage. Poor Sam had been walking on eggshells around him and was quick to learn better than to hint at the lovely mysterious red headed girl who came in the week before.

  


“He-hey.” Sam called over the roar of his electric sander.

  


Jon switched it off immediately and looked up at his terrified friend.

  


“Is...do you think...it’s almost 4:00, is it okay if I leave a little early? I know I didn’t run it by you this morning, I just--” Sam stutters nervously and Jon frowns with guilt.

  


“Of course, Sam. Go ahead.” Jon pulls his protective glasses off and sighs, “Have a good weekend.”

  


Sam nods and opens his mouth to say something before quickly thinking otherwise and shutting it. As he pivots on his foot, Jon asks, “What is it?”

  


“Are you alright for the weekend?” Sam spits out like it’s all he’s been thinking. Which it probably is, and of course it makes Jon feel that much worse.

  


He shoves a hand through his disheveled hair and nods, “Yeah man, I’ll be fine. Sorry about this week. I just...give me time. I’ll tell you about it someday.”

  


Sam smiles sadly, “I know you will, but if I may…”

  


“What is it, Sam?” Jon smiles at him deliberately.

  


“Sulking won’t help anything. I think it’s worth another shot.” Sam pulls at his fingers, “I’m overstepping, but I just haven’t ever seen you look like the way you did when you saw that girl.”

  


Jon exhales and throws him an eyeroll, “Okay Sam, thanks. I’ll see you Monday.”

  


“Just think about it.” Sam is keen to leave before Jon can give him any more attitude. “Have a good one! Thanks Jon!” He shouts out before closing the workshop garage behind him.

  


It’s so like Sam to leave a nagging yet kind thought to knock Jon into the right gear. He was always so astute and caring in that way. Maybe it’s what made him more angry, or softened him enough to make him think beyond how he was feeling just in the moment, but it felt nauseating to actually think of dealing with his feelings for what all happened before.

  


It wasn’t her fault, he knew that, but it hurt nonetheless. His choices landed him where he was and in the end, it was what he deserved. As soon as he’d settled into his new place, he’d immediately pushed out the hope of ever being with her, let alone seeing her, again out of his mind. Jon thought of everything as a day by day process.

  


Sansa deserved to hear what he had to say and honestly, he deserved to have the closure for his previous life. All he had to do was heed Sam’s advice and go back to that dreaded building and possibly run into her and her new boyfriend.

  


Jon placed the sander on the ground and looked to his phone to google her number, but that was too stalkerish. What would he say to her on the phone anyways? He needed to see her face. So Jon threw off the goggles and headed for the bathroom to wash up and watch the clock, he was going to start his walk over to Kings Landing Web Design.

  


It’s as good as it’s going to get after he splashes some water on his face, combs out the wood shavings from his beard and hair, and straightens up his white Hanes shirt. He decides on tucking it into his khaki pants and takes a moment thinking about whether he should change out of his work boots and into the spare pair of nerdy sneakers he knows he keeps in his trunk.

  


When he checks the time, he makes the decision to just go as is. It’s all or nothing.

  


Jon walks down the streets and tries to piece together everything he wants to say to the girl who broke his heart, and all he can think of is to say he’s sorry.

 

*

 

“It’s just a drink.” Petyr insists as he pounds on the button to close the elevator doors behind them. Sansa is literally boxed in with just her boss who is begging her to join him for happy hour.

  


Sansa keeps her tender smile and repeats her original answer, “Thank you, but I already have plans.”

  


“Well, invite them along.” Petyr takes a step closer and eyes her down, “I really want to hear how you’re taking to Kings Landing.”

  


Sansa watches the elevator drop another floor before answering. “The weather is much hotter than the Vale or Winterfell. The people are kind. I like it.”

  


Petyr inches closer still and hesitates before pushing her against the elevator wall and placing his hand right beside her head, “Much hotter.”

  


She waits a beat too long and he moves in with his other hand to push her hair aside. Sansa feels her skin crawl and her heartbeat rise. “Yeah, anyways. Can’t make it. Thanks for the invite.” Sansa pushes off the wall and squirms to get around him as soon as the elevator doors open.

  


Other young professionals are already waiting to enter the lift and return to their places of work when she squirms through the crowd and hurries to the door. When she gets to the glass door, Petyr’s already caught up and opening it for her. “I’ll hold you to that.”

  


Sansa fights a frown and forces her face to remain calm when she makes eye contact and then she starts her way towards her apartment when his hand grabs onto hers.

  


“Oh, Sansa--” Petyr starts and Sansa spins around to shove him.

  


Petyr stumbles aback caught off guard, “Excuse me.”

  


“Excuse you.” Sansa’s voice is quiet but sharp, “Don’t touch me.”

  


“I didn’t _do_ anything.” Petyr insists, “All I asked was for you to get a drink with me but you’re being very ungrateful and, quite frankly, rude about it.”

  


Sansa gasps at his words and takes a step back. “I just don’t want a drink!”

  


Petyr’s face morphs into something else completely, his demeanor much more like the one he had in the elevator. “Of course, I just don’t like teasing.”

  


“I’m not teasing.” Sansa spits. Petyr reaches for her hand once more, and this time she allows it, if only to see what he’ll try next. She’s unsure of what to say if he decides to apologize, but knows what will come out of her mouth if he tries her again.

  


“Of course not, sweet.” Petyr pulls her close and smiles down, “I just want to spend time together is all.”

  


Sansa’s stomach turns sour and she pulls her hand away. “I’m your employee, Petyr.”

  


“My employee indeed, and if you want it to stay that way then you’ll clear your schedule next Friday.” Petyr’s face is smooth as marble, eyes cold as a tomb, and his hand tightens on hers in a form of goodbye.

  


Sansa is breathless as he walks away, deflated and confused at what just happened. She’s more than shaken when Jon Targaryen stands before her in his work clothes.

  


“Who is that?” Jon eyes down Petyr’s disappearing frame.

  


Sansa wrestles with the truth and decides to keep it simple, “My boss.”

  


Jon seems sullen when he asks, “Would he mind if you got some coffee with me?”

  


“Mind?” Sansa’s clearly bewildered and shocked at the suggestion. _Coffee? With Jon?_

  


“I don’t mean to spring anything on you, I’m...I should’ve called or something. We can do something another time or just…” He’s so frazzled and vulnerable that it makes Sansa feel a little more at ease.

  


“No, no. Coffee sounds good but food sounds better.” Sansa gives him a soft smile, “Are you hungry?”

  


Jon nods, “Yeah, and honestly I could use a whiskey as opposed to a coffee.”

  


“Agreed.” Sansa starts walking and looks back to see Jon standing still, watching her go. “Well, come on. There’s a place around the corner that my co-worker says has great cream cheese rangoons.”

  


Jon is iffy about Asian cuisine but he follows her anyway, scared to see what the hell a rangoon is and what’ll come out of his mouth as soon as he gets the chance to talk.

  


They walk in an uncomfortable silence, Sansa is fighting to remain collected after the Petyr debacle. When they get inside the restaurant, it’s packed full of Friday happy hour guests. Together they snag a high top table by the bar and are quick to put in orders for liquor.

  


“So, how is Kings Landing?” Jon eyes the menu even though he knows he’s probably just going to order fried rice.

  


Sansa shrugs, “Different. Not any better or worse than Winterfell or the Vale.”

  


Jon nods in understanding and decides to just rip the bandage off. “You took me by surprise last week and I’m sorry I was a jackass to you.”

  


“No you’re right, I surprised you. I should’ve called or something. I just didn’t think…well, I never really knew where you ended up when all was said and done.” Sansa fidgets with her menu and Jon uses the opportunity to take her in.

  


She’s wearing a pretty pale blouse, black slacks, and heels that are nothing like the Louboutins he once got her. All of her hair is down and curled into some loose waves that frame her much more mature face. The make up she’s wearing makes her look professional and beautiful, he doesn’t know anything about it or how it works, he just notices it looks nice.

  


She looks like a 26 year old.

  


The waitress returns with their drinks and Sansa is eager for a sip of hers. The last time he saw her she couldn’t legally drink. He coughs at the realization and it gains her attention right away.

  


“What?” Sansa raises an eyebrow and Jon merely shakes his head.

  


“You’re young enough that I can tell you you look old.” Jon laughs to himself and takes a swig of his whiskey.

  


Sansa rolls her eyes, “I can’t say anything because you’re old enough that it’d be rude.”

  


The tension dissolves to a certain degree when they both share a laugh. The waitress returns to take their order and they decide on just splitting the rangoons Sansa mentioned. Jon doesn’t bring up that he’s too nervous to have an appetite anymore.

  


When the waitress disappears, Sansa stirs her straw and widens her eyes, “How has Kings Landing been for you?”

  


There’s a long pause as Jon visibly weighs his answer. “Tough. Harder at first and easier now.”

  


“Carpentry?” Sansa rests her cheek on her hand, “I didn’t even know you could use power tools.”

  


“I picked some stuff up working with...construction stuff. Your Dad actually bought me my first tool kit when I got my first place in college. It’s good luck.” Jon looked towards the ceiling as he thought some more, “It just kind of fell together. I became friends with Sam working at a bar and we teamed up to figure something out.”

  


It’s honorable and real and it makes Sansa feel overwhelmed with delight and sorrow all at once. She sniffles at the tears that prick her eyes and she makes sure he doesn’t see the way her chin trembles with pride.

  


“That’s great Jon.” Sansa is genuinely happy he worked something out.

  


Jon smiles in thanks and asks about her school. She fills him in on how it went and leaves out the boys she hooked up with to fill the void. Sansa avoids mentioning her mother or brother and says that Petyr got her the job here.

  


“That’s kind of him.” Jon takes another sip of his whiskey. “Is that who walked you out?”

  


Sansa nods and chews on her straw for a moment. “He’s a fucking creep.”

  


Jon coughs out a laugh and pats his chest, “How do you mean?”

  


“He said if I don’t get a drink with him he’ll fire me.” Sansa pushes her drink back and watches Jon’s face fall.

  


“Well that’s illegal.” Jon scratches his beard, “I hope you know you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

  


“Who is there to stop him? He’s my boss and the guys above him love him as far as I can tell. He’s never done or said anything around other people or via email or texts. I have no proof.” Sansa sulks. “Everyone already assumes I’m sleeping with him anyways. I’m too young and inexperienced to have the job that I do. I owe it all to him.”

  


Jon carefully shakes his head, “That’s not right. What a fucking dick.”

  


Sansa looks at her nails and avoids the temptation to further explain what else he’s said and done to give her to willies. It’ll only provoke Jon further, and for all she knows this is just about him apologizing and saying goodbye.

  


“Try to always be around others or tell another co-worker. Do you have a HR department?” Jon continues with worry in his eyes.

  


Sansa shrugs, “It just felt so harmless until today when he threatened my job.”

  


“It’ll work out, just stick up for yourself. You always have Robb to fall back on.” Jon acts like saying her brother’s name doesn’t burn his tongue.

  


“I don’t want to have to run home and get a job from him. I did this one by myself, I’m doing all of this by myself.” Sansa sits back and tilts her head, “You’re right about telling people though, I just hadn’t completely wrapped my head around it happening. I’ll figure it out.”

  


“Please don’t get hurt. I’d rather you call me than wait for Robb to get down here.” Jon pleads, “It won’t come to that, but if it does…”

  


“Thanks.” Sansa feels shaky at the thought and tries to mask it with a forced smile. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

  


“Fair.” Jon agrees, “Can I ask something personal?”

  


“Sure.” She’s so eager to change the subject that she doesn’t think of what could be on his mind.

  


The rangoons are placed on the table and before taking a bite he asks, “Have you had any boyfriends?”

  


Sansa almost chokes on it and laughs at his slyness. “I dated Joffrey for a while longer, and um, kinda saw that guy Harry for about a year. Nothing serious. Joffrey was a jerk and Harry moved away. There’s nothing to really tell.”

  


Again she omits the tinder profile and random hook ups.

  


“What about you?” She prods shamelessly.

  


Jon snickers, “I, uh, same here. This girl, Ygritte, for a while. But she wanted marriage and babies and it...wasn’t in the cards.”

  


He leaves out his bar hookups and blind dates orchestrated by various friends over the years.

  


Sansa fights her desire to dig for more by sucking up what is left of her drink. When she looks up from her glass, Jon is looking over the edge of his whiskey glass and gives her a smile from the past. It’s a warm smile, something he doesn’t share easily, it’s something she used to see when they worked together 8 years ago.

  


“Thanks for going out with me.” Jon tips his glass at her before taking his final sip.

  


Sansa grabs the last rangoon and bites into it, “This is almost like a first date.”

  


Jon snickers and Sansa freezes up. She did _not_ mean to say that out loud, but is pleased to see Jon is taking it well and feels a familiar nervous excitement at the look on his face.

  
  


“I’d love to do it again.” Jon visibly stiffens, “If you’d like.”

  


“Definitely.” Sansa nods quickly, “Walk me home?”   


 

Jon opens and closes his mouth a time or two before shaking it off and pulling out his credit card, “On me. Meet me at the door.”

  


Sansa leaps from the high top table and pretends like she isn’t buzzing with anticipation. Like this isn’t something she’d forced herself to stop dreaming of. And here is Jon Targaryen practically skipping up to her and ready to not only walk her home but take her on another date.

  


A date with Jon Targaryen.  

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for your never ending support and patience, I LOVE YOU BITCHES

**Author's Note:**

> I really have no chill at all. If Daddy kink isn't your thing and you're mad about this: don't even bother commenting hate. It will be deleted. ANYWAYS, thanks for reading! xoxo


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